Freak
by 4400
Summary: Centering mainly around Shawn and his relationship with Uncle Tommy, Danny and Jordan Collier: a look into the life of a freak.
1. Wake Up

ONE 

X

"I didn't do anything to him!"

The words echoed in Tom's mind, chasing thoughts around and around inside his skull.

If Shawn had nothing to do with Kyle's coma, then fine. The tears in his nephew's eyes had appeared genuine. Before he stalked out of the cubicle with enough force to catch the attention of loitering security.

Maybe Tom should go back. Just to ask another question or two. Shawn hadn't been in the most complying mood. Maybe he could get NTAC to authorize some kind of a test. There could be memories buried in his recently returned relative's mind that maybe Shawn himself didn't know about. Something.

Tom clenched his styrofoam cup, not caring if hot coffee steamed over the sides.

He'd grab the forms-no, he'd stop by and see if the "boss" was in a good mood. Tom would talk Ryland into allowing the probe. It shouldn't be too hard. NTAC was pushing as hard as it "humanely" could to make some sense out of the 4400 people recently dropped from the sky. Besides, Tom could sign any waivers or consent forms. Whatever. Shawn was family.

X

The main area was clustered with people. An underlying buzz, coupled with vacant stares had sent Shawn into a state of unrest that threatened to overthrow his easygoing nature. Well, he'd never been so much easygoing as content.

Small world.

He searched the sea of faces for the man he'd talked to earlier. Richard. He was apparently deep in conversation with a blond woman. Feeling left out, Shawn thrust his hands behind his back and spotted the small girl who always seemed to be alone. Like himself.

Maia. She could have been his little sister. And talk about calm-whenever she slid her cold fingers into his, some of the anxiety melted from him.

"You're upset."

"Hey." Shawn dropped to her level. "What are you doing, reading my mind?"

"Not really. Who came to see you?"

Shawn stared over her head, not really seeing. "My Uncle Tommy."

"He's not very nice to you, is he?"

Shawn's gaze fell. "Well, it's just uncomfortable. I haven't seen him in three years, coming from his point of view. And I guess he blames me for what's happened to Kyle."

"Kyle?"

"He's my cousin. He was with me the night I-disappeared. I can't really remember anything about it."

"I wish I had someone to talk to."

"I'm sure you will."

"No. They're dead. They're all dead."

"Hey, come here." Shawn scooped the thin form up and deposited her on his knee. It seemed too juvenile for that delicate, serious face, but he did it anyways.

She surveyed him steadily."Why are you by yourself?"

"I guess I prefer it that way. Why are you?" Shawn thought he already knew the answer.

Maia turned her head, watching some of the younger returnees scuffling in the corner. It seemed friendly enough, so no one was interfering. "I don't fit in."

Shawn bounced her. "You will."

"Maybe." Her arm circled his neck.

X

The observation room was cold. Cold, identical to all the others, neat little cubicles lining the corridor. He was beginning to hate the word. Cubicle. Of course, that's not what these spaces were called. Rooms. Shawn gave a mirthless laugh. Right. He felt as if his identity was being slowly stripped away, leaving him wide eyed and garble voiced. His secret fear was becoming like the other returnees who wandered ailmlessly, talking to themselves or constantly fidgeting with their sleeves. And he wanted desperately to see familiar faces, but not the accusing stare of Uncle Tommy.

It hurt. How many years had his own family blamed him for Kyle's accident? Layering that was the sinking feeling that Kyle wasn't okay. He was in a coma, probably never to wake up... go drinking with Shawn in the middle of the night, swapping stories that Danny was too young to hear...

His stomach clenched, and for a moment Shawn thought he was going to throw up. After gritting his teeth and counting upward to fifty, the feeling subsided a little. Something his mom, Susan, had taught him when he was no bigger than Maia. And what was she doing in Shawn's absence? He hadn't a chance to tell Maia what was going on. He didn't know himself. Except that NTAC seemed to be taking a special interest in him, where as they hadn't before. You'd think with 4399 other people, you wouldn't be under the spotlight. Much.

Shawn paced the tiny space, drumming his fingers along the cool metal table. It made him nervous. He couldn't sit in a chair, either. There were two, comfortable after a fashion, if he'd been steady enough to rest.

What was going on? It seemed like he'd been waiting for hours. Maybe they were just studying him through that little camera lense. Well, whatever. There were cameras, blinking red eyes staring down the 4400 ever since they'd returned.

"Hey."

The door snicked open, Shawn unconsciously steeling himself. For what, he didn't know.

"Shawn."

He couldn't help the involuntary look of disgust. Betrayal. "Uncle Tommy."

His uncle was shadowed by another agent, a woman who peered into the obersavation room like it might be contaminated. Shawn was surprised when his uncle motioned her back.

"What do you want, Uncle Tommy?"

"I know this is going to sound like I don't trust you-"

"You don't." Flatly.

"But I really need some answers, Shawn. NTAC does-heck, the whole country needs answers."

"Why should I help you?"

"I'm not Darth Vader." Tom cast a look around. "You don't need to be upset by any of this. They just want to run a few simple tests-"

"What tests?"

"Tests that any of the 4400 could be taking. It was a little easier with you-"

"Because Shawn is your nephew and you gave the go ahead? No red tape to worry about here."

"Hey. I'm doing the best I can for you, under the circumstances."

"Maybe it's not good enough." Shawn had backed into the hard table, feeling it bite into his skin.

"I'm not the enemy here, Shawn. I want to help."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Shawn-"

"Does my mom know- about this?"

Tom leveled his nephew with a dark stare. "Your mother trusts my judgement. Now, in a few minutes-"

The younger man smiled. It was accusing and sad, all at once, and it made an impression."Nice to know how I stand with you, Uncle Tommy."

"If you're going to act like a martyr, fine. The five year old kids don't put up this much of a fuss."

Shawn pressed his lips together, refusing to react toward the light tone and glossing over. He wasn't the same person anymore. Was, and wasn't. He hoped no one asked him to explain, because he couldn't. Even to himself.

A few moments later, as he slid into a plain white gown-which really wasn't clothing, but some plasticy material-Shawn angrily knotted the tie, hoping Uncle Tommy wouldn't be around. His jaw was sore from the continual clenching.

Loosen up, Shawn.

Then why did he feel sick? Sometimes he didn't know which way up was anymore.

He just wanted to be left alone.

Maybe think about Kyle without putting on an act that it was all okay.

Everything was fine.

When it felt like his whole world was crumbling to pieces.X


	2. Washed Out Sheets

TWO

X

Two days of tests, all of which made very little sense to Shawn.

He passed the long hours wishing for home and family; Danny must be almost all grown up. He wondered if his younger brother topped him in the heighth competition. Though Danny had always been stockier, Shawn grew fast as a weed. Secretly hoping that he was still the tallest. Watching the ceiling, people scurrying outside the windowed door. Sometimes he would lean his forehead against the pane and wonder where everyone was going in such a hurry. Saving the world.

From people like him.

X

"How's it going?"

"Uncle Tommy."

Like their last meeting, Shawn's voice was quiet and guarded. He didn't show any enthusiasm for the impending visit. Even though Tom had shuffled a lot of things on his schedule to come here.

It irritated Tom, somehow.

"So, a few more days of this-hey, wasn't so bad, was it?"

The serious faced returnee shrugged away from the friendly hand.

"Come on, Shawn. You have to admit, you made a big fuss over nothing."

"Nothing?"

Unconsciously pacing the small room, a caged animal. Shawn's eyes were slightly wild.

"Tests. Which could help your cousin."

Impossible to ignore the obvious coldness underscoring that sentence.

"I told you, I don't remember anything."

"Exactly why you're in here. Maybe they can find what you've forgotten."

Shawn paused. "Then you do believe me?"

The NTAC agent cleared his throat. Avoided his nephew's gaze, because it was earnest and open and sad.

"You said-"

"It doesn't even matter. Whatever. Why don't you go be with Kyle. It's where you want to be."

"You're my nephew, Shawn. And I still love you like a son. You and Danny both. It's just that-"

Shawn sank onto the chair, studying his hands. "It's easier to love Danny."

"Not easier."

"Maybe not so complicated."

"You were always goofing off with Kyle. I worried-"

"We had some fun. That was all. Nothing dangerous. You should know I'd never hurt him." Shawn refused to meet the intense stare bent upon him. Blinked, swiping a palm across his eyes.

Tom took the hint. "It's late, and you're tired. I have to meet my partner, anyways."

"Sure."

"I'll check in again soon."

"Don't."

"Shawn-"

"The only thing you really care about is Kyle. Not me. Not your department. Nobody."

The accusation was devoid of anger; simply put, a statement.

"That's-"

Not true? Shawn had no way of knowing about Linda.

"See you." Tom hesitated, fingers on the door. His nephew resolutely refusing to give him the comfort of a goodbye. Because that would be pretending.

X

Against better judgement, Tom crossed off an appointment with Marco. It had been a few days, and he was worried that Shawn's animosity would only grow if he was left alone too long. His nephew had never been one for lazing about. Always on a mission, always teasing his brother and laughing over pranks at school. Seemed Kyle always wound up in them. Wonder why.

The building was cold, sterile, pretty calm. Even if there'd been a riot, it was doubtful someone could pick up the sounds through those carefully crafted walls. Tom stopped to peer throught the little window, habitual caution.

Shawn wasn't there. A little girl had replaced him, long blond locks and wistful face holding the agent's attention. Maybe his nephew would be in a better frame of mind, now that he'd been moved out of observation. Tom almost smiled. The guilty feeling eased somewhat-Shawn would be in a good mood, and he still might make that appointment.

X

"Hey, Uncle Tommy." Shawn's voice was low. He rustled the pale blankets, khaki returnee tee stuck to his skin.

Tom purposely kept his own tone light. "Shawn, leave it to you to find some excuse to get your way."

"This isn't an excuse." Broad lips tugged up at the corners. "I'm surprised that you came to see me."

"Well, someone has to. And Danny would kill me if I didn't give him an update about you, every now and again."

"Ya. My mom would kick your butt."

"True. So what's up with the patient routine? Classy room like this?"

Shawn pulled himself onto his elbows. "I don't know. It's a step up from the observation cage."

"You feel good enough to get up?"

His nephew swung his legs out, starting to rise then sinking back."Well, maybe I'll just sit."

"Okay." Tom drug a chair over, direct stare slightly unnerving.

His nephew studied the washed out sheets. "So, what's going on with everybody?"

"Same as always. Your mom sends her love."

Shawn nodded. Not asking.

"Kyle's exactly the same."

"No change."

"None."

"Well, there must be a reason you graced my bedroom."

"I don't need a reason."

Shawn fidgeted with the blanket, chewing his lower lip.

"Why are you in here?"

"Questions. I really don't-look, one minute I was doing some stupid test, and the next I kind of passed out. Threw up and passed out. Or something. I guess I was just stressed out and stuff."

"Shawn, you look a little more than stressed."

"That's all, Uncle Tommy."

"Sorry. I'm just worried-when do you think you'll be out of here?"

"There's no need to worry. I'm fine. They told me another day or so." Fake enthusiasm. "Good as new."

"When you feel better, you're to go back with the others. I guess you've done your part."

Shawn's dark eyes swept upward.

"I have to catch someone, but see you soon, okay?" This time, his nephew didn't shrug the cool hand off his shoulder. Mutely nodded.

"Hey, lie back down. Got some kind of fever. Stay covered."

"Yes, Uncle Tommy." Shawn stretched his long legs out, a bemused smile playing across his mouth.

Tom awkwardly patted the blankets into place, promising another visit and ordering his nephew to stay put.

Now to catch Diana before she left the Theory Room. He hated confronting those guys alone. X 


	3. Fill in Brother and Son

Thank you, Sheba, for your kind reply. It is my first and the most appreciated. ( : 

THREE

Shawn stood in the midst of a hundred people, fingering the sign that hung around his neck. As eager as he was to return to normality, it still seemed strange to be numbered and labeled. Like an orphan, watching the train take off and eyeing the expectant faces of the strangers about him. Hoping his hair was combed and he looked nice enough to find a new home.

Susan Farrell should be in the crowd-somewhere. Shawn searched the noisy throng for his brother's familiar thatch of blond hair. He turned, in slow circles, wondering if they didn't recognize him. He looked the same-or so he thought. But Danny-Danny would have aged three years. The returnee caught his breath in excitement. Keeping his sign free with one hand, fellow 4400's away with the other. Swimming through the sea of faces.

After half an hour, Shawn felt his legs starting to ache from the nervous pacing. He wanted a drink of water, but daren't leave in case he missed his family's appearance. And he wasn't alone. A few people were receiving phone calls. Some were openly crying. Flagging down transportation. He'd have to do something soon.

"You want a ride somewhere? I'm heading out."

"Oh, thanks. I'm still waiting."

"Could keep on waiting. Maybe they've forgotten about you."

Shawn smiled at the middle aged woman. He'd spoken to her only briefly before. "It's been a few years. Not longer."

"People move on. It's surprising how quickly someone steps into your place. Out there, the world hasn't stopped. We have."

"I think it'll be okay." Shawn studied the broad, friendly features, wondering what 1319 was thinking.

"Don't waste your time on me, youngster. You have a lot of catching up to do. I hope your folks get here soon."

He smiled, still rather shy around the woman. Always feeling as if she could read his mind. "Thanks."

"Maybe we'll run into each other some day. Then you'll be the one helping me."

Shawn caught the stare in those soft gray eyes, nodded a goodbye. He didn't even know her name, but she was studying his face with calm assurance. Approving. Feeling uncomfortably like he'd passed some test, Shawn Farrell slipped his arms into his jacket sleeves. Susan would be here soon. He'd be waiting.

X

He could have asked for a phone call. Bus fare. Anything.

Shawn didn't want to. He strode out of the building right before the final cluster dispersed, afraid he wouldn't be allowed to leave if he was last. Wanting to get away. Maybe Susan had forgot. The day. Or Danny got lost, or one of them was sick, or-

He'd run out of excuses. The moon was peeping over the slender trees gracing the sidewalk. If he thought about dinner, he was hungry.Shawn was just too busy thinking about his mother and brother.

Three days ago he'd been confined to bed. Now his nervous energy was dwindling, replaced by a sick, empty hope that he might see two familiar headlights winking up the street. After a half mile, he paused to rest. There was an wrought iron bench, damp and paint peeled. Once upon a time it must have been green.

Shawn nicked his thumbnail against a patch of papery paint, relaxing stiff limbs. Deep breaths of misty air.

The bench wasn't half bad. He was so tired, he could almost have fallen asleep if a moth hadn't crawled up his pant leg.

A car wound around the curve, but it was unfamiliar. And coming from the wrong direction.

Surprisingly, it braked to a stop just past the lone figure.

"Hey, Shawn. Get in."

Figures. Uncle Tommy.

He was too tired to care.

X

Tom Baldwin set his coffee in the cupholder, hitting the unlock button. His nephew slid into the leather seat, long legged, familiar denim jacket and orange shirt. It accented the dullness in his nephew's face, the dark shadows that made his eyes seem big as Bambi's.

Looks could be oh so deceiving. Shawn was the stubborn one.

"Hey."

"Hey, Uncle Tommy."

"I stopped by to pick you up, but you'd already left. Glad I noticed you."

"Well, sleeping in the open wouldn't have done me any harm. I've been shut up for so long..."

"You shouldn't be tramping around at night."

" I Suppose."

Shawn let his head fall against the seat rest. He was practically drunk on fresh air and exertion.

"I'm taking you back to my place."

"I'd rather just go home, if you don't mind."

"My place, tonight. Your mother's expecting you tomorrow."

"But I left a message. She knew I was getting out today."

"Tomorrow you can go home. Okay?"

Shawn's mouth tightened. "Is this one of your plans, Uncle Tommy? More-"

"No. I'm taking you back. You're going to bed."

"That's all."

"Uh-hu. Oh, you have to brush your teeth and use the bathroom."

"Very funny."

Tom knew that his passenger was impatient to know the whole story. He doubted his nephew would ask, Shawn's obstinate pride beating curiosity every time.

"What's, like, the real reason I can't go home, Uncle Tommy?"

Well, some thingshad changed.

Baldwin clearly remembered how sharp his sister's son was. Debated whether or not to tell the truth tonight.

"And I don't want some piece of fiction."

Dark eyes following every movement. Tom sighed, loosening the top button of his shirt. Drummed the wheel.

"Look, Shawn, you have to understand the circumstances. Susan was really glad when she heard you'd come back. Danny was, too. It's been three years. Three years with both of them thinking you'd took off or died or worse."

Shawn frowned. "What could be worse?"

"You have a point there." Tom scanned the road, turning right at a red light. It bought him some time. "Your mother isn't single anymore, Shawn. I don't know how to tell you this any better way." Refusing to meet the questioning gaze.

"Who is he?" Shawn's voice was flat.

"A pretty decent guy. Used to go to school with him. His name's Joe, Joe Gifford."

"That's great."

"Forget the false enthusiasm, Shawn. You don't have to pretend with me."

"No. No, it's good. She shouldn't be alone." He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Uncle Tommy. I can see why you didn't want to spring it on me. But mom could have told me, she knows I wouldn't be upset. If it's what she really wanted."

"There's more." Tom sighed. He caught the lukewarm coffee in one hand, belatedly remembering the cocoa beside it. "Drink this."

"Thanks." Shawn took a tentative sip, but it was cooled down. He caught a half dissolved marshmallow with his tongue.

"Joe has a problem with the 4400's. It's not uncommon; I mean, a lot of folks are pretty freaked out, you know. Ball of light in the sky-the only reason I could wrap my head around it at first is because of you. I could see that you were normal, same old Shawn. Other people don't know that."

"So how long is it going to take?" Shawn's sat forward. "I mean, with Joe?"

"Your mom doesn't know. You can hang out at my place for awhile, ease into your old life. Just let people see you're no different than they are."

"Easier said than done," Shawn mumbled.

"And Joe has a son. Exactly your age-well, if you count the years you were missing. You're probably going to have to share a bedroom with Danny. Or take the guest room"

"I see."

"His name is Colin."

"Fill in brother and son."

"Danny and Colin are pretty close, but that sibling of yours is glad you're back. Trust me."

"Your favorite word, Uncle Tommy."

"My favorite smart-mouthed nephew." Tom undid his seatbelt. "Let's get you settled in."


	4. Only Footsteps

Much thanks to sarahofearth. Your review was unexpected, it made me laugh (in a good way) and I'm really glad that you like my story! I can only say (my bitty mind never thinks things up in advance) that Jordan will definitely pop on the scene. I love father/son type fics myself, basically all I ever write. ( ; You must be the 4400 section's number one reviewer. It takes a lot of patience to read and review all these stories. Thanks again! 

FOUR

Maybe he was just unused to sleeping in a building without a few thousand people. The bedroom was definitely nice enough-it was Kyle's, and he knew it like his own front yard. Shawn had been pleasantly surprised at being allowed to sleep in it. At first his uncle had cleared his throat, looked around, and offered to make up the couch for his nephew.

Shawn had shrugged. "Whatever, Uncle Tommy. I could sleep on the floor."

He was that tired. And, unbeknowst to him, he looked it. "Where's Aunt Linda? I'm not going to bother her or anything?"

Tom's reply had been short. "No."

"Okay." Shawn's face softened at the look in his uncle's eyes."Don't worry about it. Things have a way of working out."

"Ya. Just a long day at work." Tom started toward the bathroom, then hesitated in the hall. Maybe he should get the kid a couple more blankets. But when he looked around the corner, smooth doorframe under his fingers, Shawn had turned away. Toward the colorful pictures adorning every space along the walls. He reached toward a snapshot of his mom-Tom groaned inwardly. His long lost nephew was studying the latest Gifford Family photo.

Joe hugging Susan, Colin at her side. Danny was included in the embrace, Joe's free hand upon his shoulder. Susan looked so happy in that picture. Almost a perfect family. Colin-well, Tom had always marveled at the resemblance between his sister's firstborn and her adopted son. Emotionally, Shawn had been replaced. But it was different, now that he was back. 4400 or not. Susan had broken into tears when Tom assured her Shawn was really alive.

How to explain to Shawn? Tom stepped forward, the words on his lips. But what was there to say? Shawn was, after all, sleeping in his uncle's house, on a living room sofa. His nephew's slender finger traced the portrait. Lifting it down, wiping the dusty glass on his sleeve. Tom hastily made good his retreat, knowing his presence wouldn't be welcome. Or, too uncomfortable to deal with it. What had he always promised himself? If-when-Kyle woke up, he'd never brush him off again. Remember to be there for his son, not caught up in a world of rough and ready, forgetting the more sensitive side of things.

Tom beat his sink in frustration. Susan had always said Shawn was more like him than his own child. That was why they never hit it off. It had been easier to talk to Danny. "Hi, Uncle Tommy. Wha'd ya bring me? Shoot any bad people today?"...

His nephew had slung himself upon the couch, barely remembering to remove his shoes. He hadn't bothered with the blanket, stuffing it under his head for support. Shawn's eyes were half closed when Tom returned, squeezing the life out of a pillow.

"Here. Forgot this."

"Thanks." Shawn didn't bother to fully wake, burying his head in the fat whiteness. It smelled familiar, Aunt Linda's laundry soap. The recollection almost made him smile.

"Comfortable? If you're not-"

"No, Uncle Tommy. I'm good." Sleepily.

"Are you sure?"

"Ya. This is great." Mumble.

"Your mom really can't wait to see you. She just wants everything to be perfect, now that you're back. So give it a few days here."

Shawn nodded. "Thanks, Uncle Tommy."

Stubborn, pig headed kid. Always ready to put on an act. Tom was secretly grateful, he hadn't quite relished the prospect of a heart to heart. Diana was better at that.

"Shawn-"

"Hm-m?"

"Why don't you take Kyle's room."

That brought the wide, dark eyes open. Shawn frowned. "Are you sure?"

"That couch never was any good for sleeping."

"It'll do fine. I appreciate you letting me stay here."

Tom nodded. His nephew looked like he was about to fall on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow. Just-"

"I'll leave everything exactly as it is." Shawn gave his uncle an understanding glance. "I'm waiting for him to come back, too."

X

In the patterned moonlight,things looked different. Strange, and yet somehow the same. Shawn picked his way through the litter of his cousin's belongings, reaching out to examine a hockey stick. Remembering. They'd nearly beaten each other's brains out with that thing. And the scattered books. One of them was still face down, it's pages opened to where Kyle had left off. Shawn almost righted it, then stopped himself in time. The Baldwin's had a life in here that was still the same... as the last day they'd heard their son's voice. "I'm heading out with Shawn." Something like that.

They'd grabbed the beers, concealed in a paper sack. Down to the water, to watch the moon rise and the waves shimmer with stars.

It had been chilly.

Shawn hugged his tee shirt closer, remembering once more the caress of the damp air on his skin. Mocking laughter.

"We were just sitting there, having a few beers-" he spoke the words aloud, as if the saying might relieve the ache. Guilty ache of not knowingwhat happened next.

I can't remember.

He'd tried so hard, his head had pounded for hours afterward. That was when Uncle Tommy had told him.

The first person he'd met from home.

Well, Uncle Tommy seemed changed.Shawn was grateful, and hoped it would stay that way. Someone needed to look at him like he belonged. He mattered. Someone cared. It would take that much to keep him from running.

To what he didn't know.

Shawn sighed. It was 2 a.m.

"What am I doing?"

X

Tom listened to the rhythmic creaking of the floorboards. The kid had better get some sleep, he looked like crap. And Baldwin didn't plan on babysitting a sickrelative tomorrow.

He couldn't get to bed. Maybe it was the sounds of someone stirring in that room that had lay so still, so Kyle-for the past three years. Tom almost imagined his son was above him, cramming for some paper. The only thing missing was the faint thump thump of the bass, speakers muffled bythe floorboards.

Tom wished music would come throbbing downstairs, and he could yell impatiently to turn it down. Go to bed.

But it remained silent, save the gentle sound of footsteps.


	5. I Can't Be Kyle

Hello again, sarahofearth! This is to thank you for yet another really great review. And for taking an interest in my story. And, last but not least, for being curious about it.(: All I can say as of now is that Nikki will be dating Colin, and some fights are definitely going to erupt from that. Oh, and I've been sick, that's why I've got some time. I love colds, they always let me write! I promise to upgrade my chapters, though. These chapters aren't my best effort, at all, but the brain. When it works, it works. Who can say? (; Thanks again! 

FIVE

And morning came, shrill birds balancing on telephone lines, the occasional slam of car doors. House doors. Children arguing across the street. Shawn lazily unburied his face and tried to make out the bleary red letters of his alarm clock.

No one was bustling about, telling him to get up, report here. Get in line. He supposed that it would be okay to just sleep all day. Or lie looking at the ceiling.

"Shawn"

Or not. Baldwin's voice was rough, unused. Shawn could imagine how many cups of scalding black liquid it took to calm the man down.

Though it usually produced the opposite effect on anybody else.

"Your toast is getting cold!"

"I'll be right down."

The returnee found his jeans, shaking ineffectually last night's wrinkles.

"Get down here!"

Shawn hopped on one foot, his left caught in the stiff fabric. He stumbled against the desk, a figurine toppling. Shawn righted the little gray zebra, remembering how he and his cousin would greedily hang around any tea drinkers when a new box of Lipton's was opened. He'd given his own prized buffalo to Danny, wondered if it was still around.

And went downstairs.

Uncle Tommy was "jamming" a third piece of toast. His perusal discovered how much younger Shawn looked than last night. Stray pieces of brown hair poked into the sky like antennae. The orange shirt was slightly rumpled, bare feet thrust out of pants that still pocketed a fistful of papers.

"Morning."

Shawn returned the salute with a glass of orange juice.

"Sleep well?"

Swallow. "Like a log."

"Nothing kept you up, then, huh?"

"Should it?" Reaching for toast.

Tom slapped another piece onto the plate. "Guess not." The kid was such a dang liar. Probably only honed his skills dealing with all the returnee's psychologists.

"Thanks for putting me up, Uncle Tommy. But you didn't have to do this."

"I figured you could use a hot, nourishing meal your first day back."

Shawn missed the sarcasm, neatly disposing of an entire slice of toast.

His uncle watched, remembering the times Kyle would eat a half loaf of bread and innocently ask for more.

"Is something wrong, Uncle Tommy?"

"No. No, I was just thinking." Clunk of the coffee mug. "I have to get going in a minute. Just hang around here today."

Shawn hid his disappointment. "Okay. Can I make some calls?"

"I'd prefer if you kept them between you and your friends."

"I just wanted to talk to Danny."

"It would be better if we held off on family conversations. Give people some time."

"Am I that different?"

Tom studied the serious face before him. Sighed. "No, Shawn. It isn't you."

"It's the whole mystery."

"Bluntly-yes. They're frightened of the unexplained. They don't like what they can't understand."

"So all of us-the 4400's-we just have to wait around for how long?"

"Lots of your returnees are already back with homes and families. Many of them aren't. The luck of the draw." Tom began gathering his gear.

"When will you be back?"

"Late. Don't wait supper, just order a pizza."

"Talk about what I missed." Shawn dusted the crumbs from his fingers.

"You going to be okay?"

"Ya. Sure. You know me, Uncle Tommy."

Yes, he knew the fake huge grin and who gives a darn attitude.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Hey. You still have cable?"

"As always."

Shawn seemed placated, digging through boxes of stale cereal in the cupboard. It hadn't gone fast enough, now that Tom was eating alone.

Two kinds in the same bowl. Cocoa crisps and fruit loops.

Speak of disgusting.

X

It wasn't until the afternoon had waned that Shawn picked up the receiver, studying it intently for a moment. The urge to hear Danny's voice was almost overwhelming. It would be the final piece of the puzzle that was eluding him.

Welcome home. Plain and simple. Danny was the one person that wouldn't, couldn't have strings attached. He was Shawn's little brother who looked up to him, idolizing every football throw, the eight second pop can record, the running and wrestling, everything that brothers do together. Everything Shawn did with his friends.

"Heck with you, Uncle Tommy."

There were new shows on TV. Things he'd never heard of. The commercials were better, though. He'd watched them all.

Tried the new Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Handled the phone, cool and heavy.

Dialed.

"Danny, hey, it's me. How are things over there?"

"Shawn? Is that you?"

"Ya, man. How are you doing? I can't wait to see you."

"I didn't think I'd ever hear your voice again!"

"Why not?"

"Well, Uncle Tommy believed-you know what he believed."

"Yes." Shawn rolled his eyes.

"I always thought you had to be dead," Danny continued. He was talking too fast, as if this momnet was going to slip away. Separate them.

"Dead?"

"That was the only reason you'd take off without telling me."

"Danny, I could have run." Shawn sensed the anger in his sibling's tone. "You can't blame anyone."

"Mom. Mom thought- she thought-" Danny broke off. "It doesn't matter now. But I always stuck up for you. I knew, even if somehow you had messed something up, you'd let me know you were okay."

Uncle Tommy's end was silent.

"I want to see you, Shawn."

"Danny, there's nothing I'd like better. But Uncle Tommy thinks I should stay with him for a while."

"It's not fair."

"I know."

"No you don't. You don't know him."

Shawn tensed. "Joe?"

Danny only nodded, but his brother sensed the assent.

"Has he ever done anything I should know about, Danny?"

"He-he's great, Shawn. Just like a real dad. And Colin-Colin's like my brother."

"What' so bad about that?" Forced lightness.

"You. Mom has written you out."

"Off."

"No. Out. Like she loves you too much to worry any more, so Colin's taking your place. There's no pictures of you, Shawn. She took them down two years ago."

"Danny, I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault. But Joe thinks you'd mess her up if you came back."

Shawn jabbed at a beetle picking it's way through the dust on the book shelf.

"He's really protective," his brother offered, lamely.  
"Danny, that's crap. He doesn't want his life messed up. I'd mean changes."

"Shawn."

"You were little, Danny. Like his own son. I'm not. It'd be different."

"I think you're wrong, Shawn. Maybe if you talked to him-"

"No." It came out harsher than he intended. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

The phone went silent in his hand. He threw it after the beetle.

Why was he eternally messing things up.

He should have taken Uncle Tommy's advice.

X

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Shawn was on the living room couch, photo albums spread before him. It was almost like a window in time, a guide to all those years that he had missed. The returnee undraped himself from the furniture, stumbling over an album. He hoped it wasn't Aunt Linda, because she probably thought he'd treated her stuff like crap. Though there had been surprisingly little around he could recall as being solely hers.

The dead bolt slid, Shawn hastily running fingers though his unruly hair.

Light from the warm afternoon streamed in, haze lingering around cars scattered along the curb.

A well built man stood there, neat dark blue suit. Tie. A briefcase in one hand-paper bag in the other. Shawn had the first minute impression that this was a man who wasn't what he appeared to be.

"Are you looking for Tom Baldwin?"

"I was hoping to talk to you, actually."

"Okay." Shawn hooked an arm around the door, not allowing the man to step inside.

"You called my house, didn't you?"

"Your house?"

"Talked to my kid. Danny?"

"Your kid?" Shawn repeated, dumbly.

"You always repeat things like that? Guess whoever took you messed you up."

"Took-messed-"

Shawn's involuntary movement caught the visitor by surprise. He back stepped, obviously not relishing the idea of this 4400 getting within breathing distance.

"We figure this thing out, right now. You and me. Or I'm going to take it up with your uncle."

The younger man frowned. "You leave him out of this. Joe."

"I see you know my name. Maybe this will help-Danny is my adopted son. Susan is my wife. The Gifford Family. We're respected, content, perfectly normal neighbors. I own part of a law firm, pretty good business. This town trusted Gifford and Lashe for half a century. I don't need any 4400 phenomenon changing all that." He held out a hand, placating. "Now, before you start, listen to this. You want Danny to get beaten up at school?"

"He can take care of himself." Touch of pride.

"Your mom to drop out of those social meetings?" The man continued, doggedly."Maybe live in a house with "freak" painted all over the side? Happened all over town last night."

"She's stronger than that." Shawn almost smiled. "Mom doesn't take it from anyone."

"I don't give a dang if your mother can knit socks out of lint. She deserves a better life. She's going to have it, with me.That'snot with you. Some 4400-person."

Shawn's fingers slid off the door. "No. I don't care. It's my family. It's my family and my house and you're not going to throw me out because of some stupid kids on a Saturday night."

Joe stepped forward, his eyes hard as the sun baked asphalt. They weren't really any color, more or less, just a strange gray-brown.

Shawn wondered, in a small part of his brain, if this man was a prosecutor. He'd be dang good.

"Get your hands off me."

Belatedly realizing his shirt was twisted around the man's fist.

"I'm not always nice, Shawn."

"Don't worry,I wasn't under that impression."

He wasn't about to squirm. Shawn wanted nothing more right now than to level it right between those arrogant eyes. "How about you keep your hands to yourself." Tugging the tee shirt fabric into place.

"Mind your manners. Shawn."

"Some lawyer. You wear a suit and you go around threatening people andtearing their clothes." It was a petty insult, the kind that irritated a petty person. Shawn knew pretty much all there was to know about pushing people's buttons.

"Leave you mother and Danny alone. I'll get a court order if I have to. And, just between the two of us, incredibly easily."

The lowered voice, conspirators smile. The scent of that expensive cologne, all hit Shawn in the face. "You need to leave. Now."

"I can see you're a troublemaker. Not at all like Danny. Who do you take after? Not your father? You know, Shawn, the word around town is."

Whatever the word was, Shawn didn't care. Whether it had changed in the three years he'd been absent or stayed the same.

"Get off this property or I'm calling the police."

"Freak, don't try to play my game."

Freak.

Shawn froze. He'd always looked after his mother growing up, after Danny. There was no one else, so he naturally fell into the mold of protector. He'd been abducted. Poked and examined, herded, numbered, ignored, blamed, and now insulted. "Leave."

Joe didn't really want to touch the 4400. But it was easy to make out the will, the desire to smack Shawn across the face. And Shawn knew it.

"Go on. Scat." The man wasn't worth Shawn's time. And he let Gifford know it.

By now, people would be peeking though the curtains. Wondering. And what did Shawn care? He was already labeled. It was Joe that looked about, trying to stay out of the public eye.

Maybe because he was associating with one of them. The freaks.

"You're full of words. But you don't have the guts to back them up." Closer.

Every step Shawn took, the lawyer backed up a pace. Smoothly, trying to cover his retreat.

"Next time you want to see me, I'll be here." Shawn folded his arms across his chest. Breathing heavily. Wanting so bad to take a shot at that perfectly trimmed head.

"I'll deal with you, and just where I want you. Through the law."

Shawn was too upset to retort. Let the man have his little victory, scrambling into his sports car.

There were people staring when he turned about.

Let them have that, too.

X

Tom slammed the front door, tossing his mail onto the table. He unbuttoned his cuffs, pulling the jacket off with an irritated tug. Where was Shawn?

Not in the kitchen. It was straightened, this morning's dishes already dried. He strode down the hall, listening for sounds. Television, radio. Anything. But it was silent, save a vacuum whining next door.

The long form of his nephew was upstairs, draped across Kyle's bed. He was sound asleep, shoes staggered across the doorway. Tom caught himself, cussing under his breath. Time to have words with Susan's kid.

"Wake up." Rough shake.

Shawn murmured, rolling over. "Uncle Tommy." Blinking into the sudden lamp light.

"Get out of bed!"

"Okay."

"Downstairs. We have to talk." Shawn padded toward the first floor in his bare feet, unusually silent. No protests.

"What were you thinking?" Baldwin rounded on him with an intensity that shocked his nephew into full wakefulness. "Or, more accurately, not thinking?"

This was the tiny space where Shawn could make an excuse. Try to explain his actions, truthfully or not. Instead, he sank onto a chair and glanced downward. There was a tiny stain on the carpet that resembled a map of china.

"Stand up when I'm talking. And look at me."

Shawn complied.

"Joe called me. At work. So you had a nice chat with him."

"I guess you could say that."

"Sometimes, Shawn, I forget that you're my nephew. Why are you always the one causing trouble? And here you are, the first day back. Danny's upset, Gifford is definitely never going to accept you, and Susan is blaming me."

The nephew studied his fingers. "I know." Quietly.

"I don't know what to do, I don't know how to deal with you. This isn't working out. I can't trust you. I thought it was-" Tom threw his hand up, familiar gesture against his forehead. "Why? Why Kyle"

Shawn met the angry gaze. "I don't know. I don't know, Uncle Tommy. Maybe you should ask yourself why you brought me here at all. If you're looking for Kyle-" he gestured toward the stairs-"I can't help you. I don't know how to be like him. I can't be him, Uncle Tommy. I'm sorry. I know you're upset that I'm here and Kyle's in a coma. I get it. Just stop trying to pretend like you're okay with me."

Tom sucked in a breath, cooling off. Trying.

"Shawn-" reaching out, but ignored.

"I get it, Uncle Tommy."


	6. Iodine

Many thanks to (fanfare) sarahofearth! As usual, wonderfully fat review, completely encouraging-full of 4400 enthusiasm- and downright nice. Thanks sooo much, sarahofearth! I wish I had the time to write a longer thanks, but I have about two minutes left on the computer. mac111, many thanks to you! I really appreciated you review (:...klnolan, a nice big thanks to you (and a little Maia for you)...sheba, thanks for the reviews! I am going to try to work up to some real action...never fear...I have a plot, it's just taking me a long time to set it up...fwuzzfwuzz, thanks for you words of encouragement (; I really appreciate it!...and amy, thanks for the review! As far as the cussing goes, I made a bet when I was ten that I could go through life without one cuss to my sister. So far, I've done okay...but my sister's swearing a blue streak. ( : Next chapter is Shawn/Maia and Gifford Family/ Shawn. Anyone guess the twist in the next chapter? There's a little hint in this one. Shutting up now!

SIX

Tom raised his hand. "Whatever." If his nephew decided to leave, well, he had no control in the matter. After all, Shawn was free to do as he pleased. Tom didn't intend to babysit him anymore.

"Interfere's with my work." He slammed a pillow onto the sofa. "My time with Kyle-" kicking a pizza box along the floor-"my privacy-" summararily stepping on it. He'd run out of excuses. Baldwin's brow furrowed. "Oh! He goes behind my back."

"Are you through yet?" Shawn. Calm and composed, the least bit of stubborness in his tone. Somehow he had managed to slip up unnoticed.

"No. No." Tom lunged toward him, pointing a finger. "I'll finish when I'm good and ready."

The nephew sighed. "You may not be ready, but you're sure good."

"Meaning what?"

"You didn't tell me about Aunt Linda." Accusation.

"Don't turn this around."

"I didn't know how often you visited the hospital."

"It's none of your business. You think that you can waltz in here, into my family, after three solid years-"

"Uncle Tommy, why do you always try to pretend everythings okay? Even with my mom."

Baldwin froze. "Ha! No, that's you, Shawn. You're the one always going around with a chip on your shoulder, whining about things you never spoke up about!"

"Oh, come on."

"Yes! Like the time you went to the beach? You were feeling miserable because you had the flu, but you never told anyone. No, just blamed me for not reading your mind and taking your temperature. You ruined the whole day-"

"I did not."

"Started a fight with Kyle-"

"That was entirely different. He stole my sand shovel."

"And basically ruined the kid's birthday. We ended up stowing the cake, dumping potato salad out the window so you could use the bowl to-"

"Uncle Tommy, I was like five years old!"

"A five year old knows how important a birthday is."

Shawn studied the stair railing. "Are you finished yet?"

His uncle sank onto the couch. "No. No, I'm just beginning."

"Is this what you've been like? Since the accident?"

Shawn's candid stare was unnerving. "It wasn't an accident," Tom snapped.

"You still blaming me?" The younger man glanced at the floor. "Because it sure seems like you are."

"What was I supposed to think?"

"That was then. Today is totally different. Uncle Tommy, I told you what happened."

"No. You told me what you couldn't remember."

Shawn hesitated. "After all you've seen. Working with the 4400's, and you still think that what happened to Kyle had something to do with me?"

"You were there, Shawn. You can't even tell me that you don't remember not doing anything to him. Unless something's changed?"

"We've been over this a dozen times! What do I have to do? What do I have to prove to you?"

"Maybe feel something. Feel a little bit of something besides absolutely nothing!"

"You think I don't feel bad about Kyle?" Shawn gestured toward the room. "That I don't think, think about him every minute? I just lie here and relax, watch cartoons and sleep in Kyle's bedroom."

Tom shrugged. "You tell me."

"I guess because I'm not falling apart, I can't prove anything to you."

Baldwin's face reddened darkly. "Maybe you should leave, Shawn."

"No. Someone has to make you listen. My mom won't. She's wrapped up in her little safe world, and doesn't even want me because I'd risk that. Don't stir the boat. Aunt Linda's gone. How long do you think it'd take me to see through the 'visiting her mother' story?"

"I don't think you want to go there."

"Or what. Or you'll beat the crap out of me? Tell me how wrong I am? I know. I'm just one of those freaks. You know, the kind people peer out their curtains at and cross the street when they see me coming?"

Somewhere in the distance, a clock struck eleven.

Tom broke the silence with a sigh. "Why don't you go upstairs."

"I'd rather take a walk."

His uncle refused to meet Shawn's eyes. "I don't care."

"Don't worry. No one will see me leaving your house."

The front door slammed, sending a vibration clear through Tom's feet. He sighed, this time in exhaustion. Let the kid go. He would appreciate the time alone. Like it had been. Shawn didn't deserve to be in Kyle's bedroom; in the same house as his son. Kyle. Baldwin wiped the tears form his eyes with a rough hand. Shawn had left his jacket at the foot of the steps. He tossed it out of the way.

X

It was cool outside, this time of night. Moonlight feathered through the lacy trees, standing dark and sceptre like in the distance. A lonely dog barked a few blocks down, and Shawn felt the need to feel something. A warm furry body, pressing against his knee. During his absence, Benny had died. The shaggy black cocker/lab mix had been a present from the local pound when he was barely ten. From diabetes. Funny, how animals got sick same as humans. No one had really noticed, just that Benny grew thinner and thinner. Shawn ran a palm across rough tree bark, relishing in the harshness. He need something. The sidewalk to slam up. There were so many things he blamed himself for.

Not protecting Kyle enough.

Leaving Susan and Danny to Joe Gifford.

Benny.

Everything.

The dog was penned in a fenced yard, slumped mournfully with it's shiny black nose sticking through the slats.

Shawn sank to one knee. "Hey, fella. What's wrong? You all by yourself tonight?"

The animal seemed to relish the scratching, thrusting it's head out so far Shawn worried it might become stuck.

"You're a good boy. Wonder what your name is?"

"I see you like the dog."

The question came out of the night, so abruptly that Shawn jumped. The returnee got to his feet, brushing at his jeans. "It's a nice dog."

"And it ain't for sale."

"I wasn't thinking of buying it." Shawn stuck out a hand. "Shawn Farrell."

"I know who you are. You're one of those 4400's."

"News travels fast." Shawn tucked his hand into a pocket, instead.

"Bad news." The stranger peered into Shawn's face, his cap making it hard to return the favor. "But you don't scare me."

"I hope not."

"Heard you had a run in with Gifford."

"We had words." Shawn glanced about, sensing a threat. The street was dark, save the occasional pool of lamplight.

"Well, some of my boys want to meet you."

"I really should get going. My uncle's-"

"The old man just threw you out of the house."

"That's none of your business."

"Really? You scared?"

"I don't want any trouble."

"We don't want one of you on our block."

"I don't live here, so you can forget about it."

"That's not what I heard."

"Step off."

"Or what?"

Shawn didn't bother answering, shouldering the shorter boy out of his way. His own words had come back to haunt him.

Before he had taken three steps, something slammed him in the back with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. He turned about, fists raised instinctively. The smaller kid had melted away, replaced with a burlier assailant.

"What's this about?"

"I think my brother cleared things up."

"I could yell. The police would be down here in two minutes."

Now Shawn made out what had struck him. The shadowy faced guy was tapping something that resembled a pipe against his palm. Tap Tap.

"And you could be eating your teeth in two seconds."

"I'm warning you. Back off."

"Oh. Did you say something? I can't hear real well."

They began circling, Shawn trying to figure a way to break the man's concentration enough to grab the weapon.

"I don't like games." The pipe swung down, hard enough to break a knee cap. Shawn jerked aside just before it connected, feeling the bruise spreading along his calf but not yelling in agony. Perspiration wet his face; he could feel it with the light breeze cooling against his neck.

"You do dance well." Jab.

Near miss. Shawn wanted to reach out and grab the pipe, take a whack in the process, but get it out of that kid's hands.

"Show me the magic."

The taunt sent him forward, crashing into his attacker as heavily as he could. The metal tube crossed his side hard enough to stop him.

But he had his fingers around it.

It became a contest of strength. Shawn's skin was slippery with sweat, but his adversary's was, too. They struggled to gain control of the pipe, jerking each other back and forth like puppets.

It came free at last, and Shawn landed across the sidewalk. Rough cement bit into his skin, but the pipe was his. Before Shawn even got to his feet, the second figure had disappeared down a side street. He contemplated pursuit, then hesitated. Who knows how many friends the idiot had. Maybe waiting for him around the corner. Shawn wasn't that naive.

The dog whimpered softly, not making a sound through out the fight. Shawn patted it on the head, trying to control his wheazy breaths of air. The pulse pounding in his ears, the returnee made his way back up the street.

He hoped Uncle Tommy had gone to bed. Something wet fell across his wrist. Shawn reached a hand up, surprised to find his nose bleeding. Great. He sniffed, swiping at the moisture. Trying to walk with one's head thrown back. He didn't have a kleenex, and his whole face was getting messy. The returnee opened the front door softly, relieved that it wasn't locked.

And walked in on his uncle.

X

Tom didn't bother trying to wipe the irritation from his face. Shawn had given him a talking to that was supposed to be the other way around. He'd left in the middle of the night, expecting Uncle Tommy to be in bed when he returned. Neatly avoiding the consequences of the confrontation.

"This is just what I'd expect from you, Shawn."

Peering through the semi dark. His nephew mumbled something and tried to get out of sight.

"What are you doing?"

Shawn's shirt was bunched up, pressed against his face. Tom rose, jerky movements only accenting the dark expression marring his features.

"It's only-"

"A nose bleed. I can see that." But Baldwin was staring at the darkening bruise across his nephew's torso. "What happened, Shawn?"

"I tripped."

"You can quit lying." Grabbing his nephew's shoulder and giving him a warning shake. Shawn winced. "Oh.You fell." Sarcastically.

"Just leave it, Uncle Tommy." Pulling away.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you are my responsibility. So I can't leave it." Circling the returnee in frustration. "I'd like nothing more. Believe me."

His nephew sighed. Talking, through the clothes. It was hard to understand. "I'm going to get cleaned up."

"I'm coming with you." Taking his relative by the back of the shirt.

Shawn allowed himself to be steered down the hall, knowing by the force of the hand on his back he hadn't any choice.

Tom flicked the light on. The bathroom glowed to life, and Shawn sniffed again.

"Bend your head back." Tom opened the medicine cabinet, sifting through the assorted containers. "We'll put some of this on."

Shawn complied, staring at the ceiling as Uncle Tommy swabbed a cool moisture along his bruise.

"Anywhere else?"

Shawn tried to see around the material. "By knee. I can dake care of dat byself."

"Just lose the shirt." Tom snatched up a handful of toiletpaper. "Here."

Shawn pressed it against his nose, wincing as Uncle Tommy found the welt on his shoulder.

"You sure I shouldn't take you in? That's no bump."

The returnee shook his head.

"Mind telling me what happened?"

In the hesitation that followed, Baldwin recapped the medicine. "I'm not asking."

"Somebody jumped me."

"And you don't know why?"

"I was petting a dog. Two guys came up. One of them had a pipe. I took it away and came back."

"Thanks for including the details. Where were you?"

"Just down the street."

"Meaning?"

"Two blocks north."

"I'll take it up with-"

"It's because I'm a 4400, "Shawn blurted out.

"Really." Tom looked thoughtful. "From now on, you stay inside the house."

"Uncle-"

"Just until I get to the bottom of this. Trust me, I can do it. I'm experienced. Those guys weren't overly bright." He surveyed his handiwork. "Off to bed."

Shawn mopped his skin with a dark washcloth, gathering up his stained shirt. "I have to soak this-"

"Leave it in the sink." Tom twisted the faucet. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Just before his nephew reached the stairs, he hesitated. "Could I have some tylenol?"

Baldwin emptied a few pills into the kid's palm.

Shawn took a few steps, then hesitated. "Could I borrow a shirt in the morning?"

"Yes. Take one of mine."

Not Kyle's.

Shawn mutely nodded, pills, water and medicine bottle clutched in both hands. Tom sighed in satisfaction. Now he could get some sleep.

X

About half an hour passed. Tom thumped his pillow, turning over in an effort to get comfortable. Rest eluded him, accented by the squeaking leaves against his window. The moon shone, still bright and full. Brilliant orb in the black night sky. It was completely still inside, almost too quiet.

He was restless. Tom slid out of bed, remembering to lock the front door. He'd forgotten, what with all the excitement earlier.

Found himself following the curve of the steps, smooth railing under his fingers. Almost without thinking. He needed to see Kyle's room. Some nights he even slept there, sitting on a chair far into the night.

Pale yellow light decorated Kyle's floor. Shadows rose from the corners, assorted sports equipment and strange posters. Tom picked up a book, it must have fallen. Stacking it with the others on the desktop.

Shawn was buried in the roomy bed, almost fooling him. It looked as if Kyle had never been to the hospital, but was lying there before his father, innocent and unguarded in sleep.

Tom held his head, trying to work past the pain. All the pain and loneliness and anxiety that seemed to take over his world these days. He knew it wasn't good, pairing Shawn with him. Both of their problems seemed to rub against each other; he doubted it was doing either of them any good.

But how young Shawn looked. His hair touseled, face relaxed in sleep. The sheet was drug over his body, barely covering one side and trailing off the other. Tom twitched it straight, staring for a moment.

He didn't know what it was, but something tugged inside his chest. Something long buried.

X

Uncle Tommy studied Shawn over the bowl of scrambled eggs. They hadn't said a single sentence to each other since last night.

Shawn stirred the food with a fork, red ketchup staining the breakfast pink. He tried to hide some of the stiffness from his uncle, waiting until the man left for work and he could sprawl across the couch.

"My partner called. She needs to find a sitter for one of the returnees. If she doesn't, I guess I won't be home till late." Matter of factly buttering toast. The scrape scrape soothed Tom's nerves.

"Sitter?" Shawn didn't raise his gaze from the eggs.

Tom raised his coffee to his lips. "She took a little girl home for the weekend, after she was returned by her adoptive parents. Anyways-" shoving the cup aside-"NTAC doesn't honor weekends." He needed to get out of the house before he said something he'd regret. The strain between uncle and son was far from gone.

"Pretty important case, huh?"

"Actually, I'm tracking down a 4400 that can start things on fire. Supposedly."

Shawn laughed. "X men running around in the street?"

"I'm not joking. A lot of the 4400's are starting to exhibit-gifts. For good or bad. You might as well know."

"I saw something about it on a show." Shawn frowned thoughtfully.

"Ya, well you can forget that show. A woman crusading for-never mind. I'll be late."

Shawn took a sip of coffee. "I hope you find a sitter."

"Me, too. Sometimes I think that girl acts older than I do. But you can't leave a kid in an apartment all day. Abilities or not." Tom snatched up his coat.

"Abilities?" The curious light in Shawn's gaze grew.

"Maia. She can sort of forecast the future."

"Maia? My Maia?"

Tom frowned. "What do you mean, your Maia?"

"Rutledge. She's the little girl I met in quarantine."

"You two know each other?"

"Yes. We hung out a lot." Because we didn't fit in. Shawn didn't voice the words.

"Huh. Well, that's great. Change your shirt and come on." Tom caught the blank look, flipping the cover on his cell. "Diana. It's me. I've found your sitter."


	7. It'll Be All Right

Klnolan, thanks for your reviews! You read all my chapters and left reviews for them, that's so nice! I'm glad you like the story, and this chapter is full of Maia, so I hope that you enjoy it! Echo, thanks for letting me know what you think of my story-and for reading it in the first place!I really appreciate it. Tiryns, I'm glad you enjoy Shawn/Tom stories...I do, too! Obviously ( : I hope you do write a 4400 fiction. Please! rockstarhobbit, I'm glad that you like the story, too. As far as your story, I just read it and it's really good! Don't worry, I'm leaving a review, but I think that you have the genuine Shawn/Maia touch. I'm struggling with mine. Thanks again! LostAngel2, thanks a lot for leaving a review and for reading my story and for liking it! Now for Sarah. Well, well. What do I say to this girl? She writes reviews like stories. She could probably publish a book of reviews, let alone the other story I read which she should CONTINUE. LOL Sarah, you are the best reviewer and so nice (and encouraging) that if they gave out awards, you'd receive a "top reviewer" award. Probably a dopey gold crown but all the same. You deserve one. Wear it with pride! And thanks again for all the reviews. They make my day!  
Yes. I am lame. I wait for reviews like a child in the candy store. So thanks!

X

SEVEN

Diana opened the door for them. Her smile was faint and seemed an afterthought. Shawn stepped past her, feeling the searching stare rather then seeing it. He knew it was hard for her to accept the 4400's as something other than a disease threat. His uncle had explained it wasn't personal, just her line of work... Shawn fully expected to see Maia standing off in a corner, surveying the scene with solemn eyes. Her absence made him feel uncomfortable. There was nothing to do but turn and face his uncle's partner.

"Hi."

"Shawn." She reached out a hand, and he faltered an instant. Surprised. "I'm glad that you could stay with Maia. She's really looking forward to this. You're the first 4400 she's had a chance to talk to in days."

Tom laughed. "It'll do both of them good. Shawn's been bouncing off the walls."

Diana shot Baldwin a covert glance. "Still having problems?"

"He's been staying inside."

Shawn gritted his teeth. Uncle Tommy made him sound like a coward. Maybe Baldwin caught the message, because he clapped a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Not that he wouldn't try taking on the whole block single handed."

What, was his uncle proud of him? It was hard to tell, back at the house. But there was no mistaking the tiny glint of affection in that warm gaze. Shawn listened to the rest in confusion.

Instructions. Advice. This woman wasn't shy on letting a person know what she wanted. Or didn't want. Shawn couldn't help wondering where Maia was.

"Hello."

"Hey." Shawn dropped to one knee, automatically feeling more at ease. "How are you?"

"I'm all right. Now." The blond smiled past him, at Diana.

"You really like her?"

Maia nodded.

"Well, she's a very nice lady."

"She said we could order Chinese."

Shawn's eyes widened in appreciation. "We'll have to watch a movie, too."

"A good one."

"Definitely."

"With talking animals."

Hard to remember that Maia hadn't grown up watching television.

"Don't let the novelty overrule your sense of judgement." Diana stepped past him, adjusting Maia's hair.

Shawn nodded. "I won't."

"One movie. Nothing with violence."

"No problem."

"I'd prefer if we kept a handle on the romance, too. She's really not old enough-"

"Sure."

"And as far as language-"

Shawn dove for his knapsack. "Snow White?"

"Oh. Okay."

Baldwin broke the awkward silence. "We're going to be late."

"Oh. Yes, right. Maia, I'll call you before dinner." Diana gathered her things, throwing the elder returnee a warning look. "Take care of her."

Before Shawn could think of a reply both suitable and assuring, Maia slipped an arm around his waist. "We'll be fine."

How strange. A child giving reassurance so maturely. Whatever the reason, Shawn was glad his uncle's friend had left. She made him nervous.

X

"I really like these. What are they?"

Shawn craned his neck to see what the little girl was holding between her fingers.

"Water chestnuts."

He doubted they should be eating on the couch. And Maia had insisted on chopsticks, so chopsticks it was. Halfway through she abandoned the wooden sticks in favor of her fingers, but Shawn didn't have the heart to make her stop. Getting a fork would intrude right upon the scene where the dwarves entered the bedroom, tip toeing toward Snow White.

Maia was strange, in some ways. She didn't ask eternal questions like children her age. Shawn found himself studying the top of her head, wondering what went on in there. It was hard enough to deal with his own problems, how could an eight year old?

The container bumped him in the chest. Maia had definite rules about sharing. She liked contact, too, snuggling against the couch and gradually working her way under his arm.

The Disney movie wound to a finish, and Shawn reached for the remote. Maia sighed beside him. The credits faded to black, and then the local news channel. Shawn moved to turn up the sound, but was restrained by a hand on his arm.

"You won't like it."

"What?"

"You should turn it off."

Shawn studied those unhappy eyes and couldn't help glancing toward the screen.

"And these people are sure that the cause for this assault rests with a new face. These past few days, the whole neighborhood has been uneasy with the knowledge that one of the 4400 has taken residence on this street. Shawn Farrell, apparent nephew of Thomas Baldwin, Homeland Security. Baldwin has been assigned to NTAC in the wake of 4400 people returning to earth in a ball of light. But the real question is, are these people really what they seem? The whole country-"

Shawn held the control so tight it hurt.

"The victim describes the weapon as some kind of a pipe-"

"I told you." Maia reached across, pressing the power button.

"How did-" Shawn fell silent, remembering his uncle's words. Gifts.

"I have to tell Uncle Tommy." Pressing fingers against his face. But Uncle Tommy would already know. Undoubtedly. And he'd expect Shawn to stay cool and wait there for him. There was nothing to be gained by rushing off.

It felt like a set up.

But who?

Gifford. Shawn studied the blank, staring eye of the TV. Would the man go to such trouble? Maybe it was just a common case of 4400 dislike. Suspicion. Unwarranted hatred. Anyone could have...

Gifford.

It had to be.

X

As if I have a choice.

Like there's anything anyone can do to help me.

I'm one of the 4400.

Shawn buttered bread, absently trimming the crusts. Behind him, Maia was earnestly spreading peanut butter. A smudge of pale brown decorated one cheek. Time had seemed to eek away, each minute hovering suspended around him. Time was standing still. He dipped into the spread with a savage thrust. Not the words he wanted to remember. Time standing still. For three years.

He had to get out of here.

There was a probably a warrant or something already out for his arrest. At least, if this had something to do with that reputation obsessed Gifford. Oh, he was one honest character. The memory of that ultra perfect face caused his fingers to slip, the knife clattering to the floor.

Some fun for Maia. Shawn turned his head from his position on the floor, watching the young returnee. Wishing he could make this day up to her. He silently resolved the next time would be different.

Where could he go?

X

Maia watched her sitter in turn, pretending no to notice Shawn's distress. He held a brightly patterned card, studying it in the lamplight. It must have been their seventh game of fish, and he was down by six. The design was pretty, reds but mostly blues and greens. Endangered species pictured in their natural surroundings. Maia glanced down, touching her favorite. A fuzzy faced monkey. Shawn had explained the dog eared cards were his cousin's, the one who was in a coma.

He looked pensive, his kind face turned away from the bright light. Maia felt a pang of sadness, for the shadows surrounding him seemed to take hold in her imagination. Something bad was going to happen. And since she couldn't identify it, there was no warning to give. Nothing to do but wait.

"Maybe we should take a walk." Gently pulling the card from her older friend's grasp. It's not raining anymore."

Shawn jerked his head, focusing on her. "I'm sorry. Maia, I'm not concentrating very well, am I? My turn?"

"We don't have to play anymore." Sorting the cards into a neat little pile. "It's all right. I'd rather talk."

"Don't be so solemn." Shawn reached over, tugging her ponytail. "Is all this hair really yours?"

Maia had to smile, a dimple only adding to her innocent appeal. "Don't tickle me,"she remonstrated."

"Oh. Maia's too grown up for tickling? Who's going to stop me?"

"You shouldn't tickle girls."

"Oh. Why not?" He jumped up, clearing the space between them.

Maia squealed between giggles, her sitter's long legs effectively squashing any hopes of outrunning him. He grinned, reaching for her, arms just brushing her cheek when the blond wiggled free and dove under the table.

Shawn sighed in mock dismay. "I'm babysitting a little monkey." He scratched his head. "Could have sworn it was a girl."

X

By eleven o'clock, Maia was finding it difficult to stay awake. She kept nodding off, despite her best intentions to finish a second showing of Snow White and a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Shawn finally swung her up, trailing blanket and slippers, to perch on his shoulders. "I might drop you," he warned.

Maia responded wrapping vise like arms about his neck. Mid stride to the bathroom, a muffled knock shattered their solitude.

Shawn tensed, wondering why Diana didn't just use her key. The imperious summons sounded again, but louder.

"Police. Open up."

"Maia." The tall returnee didn't set her on the floor, but held her tightly in his arms. The soft blanket fell limply to the carpet.

Maia's face was pale, but she was glad that Shawn didn't let her go. Darkness seemed to ooze from the very walls, clutching them with a cold embrace.

"Last chance. Police! Open up."

Shawn turned the lock, feeling Maia's rapid heartbeat against his chest.

Two uniformed men stood in the hall, their faces wary, far from friendly. Shawn's initial impression was a pair of thugs. Starting to open his mouth, he never got any further.

"Put the child down."

"No." Maia buried her fingers tighter.

"Now."

Shawn complied, bending to tilt the trembling chin. He knew, without words, that she was scared for him and not herself. "Maia." Keeping his voice calm."I'll be okay. Can you stay right here and wait-"

"Sorry. She can't stay here unattended."

"What?" Anger replaced uncertainty. "You're not going to drag her with us-"

"She'll have to come along. Don't worry, one of the women will keep an eye on her."

"She's not-"

"The little girl can wait at the station. Just until her guardian comes."

The second officer shouldered his way forward. "You're wanted for questioning.For assault and battery-" he grabbed the returnee's hands. "You have the right to an attorney." The voice droned on. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say could be used against you in a court of law."

Cold metal bit into Shawn's wrists. He froze, incredulous. "This is an arrest, I'm not being taken for questioning! You can't-"

"We can and we are." The first police man shoved him, but he resisted, bracing himself against the doorjamb.

Maia. Soft nightgown shrouding the slender form, hair long and sticking every which way. One foot was missing a slipper.

Why hadn't Uncle Tommy returned his call? Hadn't he heard? Shawn wouldn't budge. "She needs to get dressed."

"Listen bud. I've no problem getting physical with you. Big 4400 or not." Turning to the girl. "Get your coat and shoes. You'll only have to sit in a room with a couple of nice ladies. Just until your folks come."

Shawn bit his lip. Maia obeyed soundlessly, turning off the television and righting her empty bowl.

"As for you-" the next shove was far from gentle, and the returnee read dislike and fear in the officer's eyes.

4400.

"Move it."

But Shawn still hesitated, giving Maia time. Time to slip into her jacket and make a wide eyed path to the door. Reaching for his hand, but unable to hold it.

"You're lucky the kid's here. I don't beat up people in front of little kids." Warning shove. "If I can help it."

This time Shawn allowed himself to be led out of the building. Practically falling into the cop car. At the very least, falling sideways, feeling the sharp tug of acceleration. A dark city floated by, lights and sound like earthgrown stars. Shadows of people passing by, lost in a blur of night and remnants of reality.

Because this wasn't really happening.

Hadn't Uncle Tommy reported the attack? The guy had some pull, why couldn't he use it! Shawn let his head fall back. Maia was calmly holding one of the battered playing cards.

"Are you okay?" Shawn twisted to get closer, unable to sit comfortably. Weren't they supposed to take the cuffs off in the car or something? At least put his hands in front of him?

"There's nothing to worry about." Maia broke through his thoughts. Calmly.

He made out the delicate features, now wise and reassuring. Again experiencing that strange feeling that the eight year old was trying to soothe an adult.

"It'll be all right."


	8. Apple Pie

I just wanted to say thanks to all of the people who left reviews-you know it means a lot. I have very little internet time available-thus the extended and choppy chapter. I hope it makes sense, but I've been writing bits and pieces while I couldn't post online. This clears up some things, and next chapter I can get down to regular writing. It should be the infamous "dinner" at the Giffords. I will reply to each and every one of you as soon as I can. THANKS so much for just reading! And for all the compliments, advice, ideas. You know I love you! 

EIGHT

The streets appeared empty, lifeless, save for dirty newspapers and empty shopping bags that danced by them. Wind, cold wind, hit Shawn in the face, attesting to the fact that this wasn't an illusion. Far from it. Bright lights pooled over a small circumference, illuminating the shabby police station. He'd never been to this section of town before.

The silver cuffs glinted under the street lamps, fascinating Shawn. Each step was numb, wooden, almost as if he knew it was just a very bad dream. And soon...soon someone would shake him awake, or the alarm would go off and he'd just lie still a minute, glad to be there. Safe and secure in the familiar confines of his bedroom.

"Move it."

The hand at Shawn's elbow jerked him to the present. It helped, along with the damp, chilly air to clear his head.

He had to contact Uncle Tommy.

Where was Maia?

The tall returnee tried to turn around, hoping to spot the girl and give her reassurance, but she was being escorted in a different direction.

Swallowed by shadows.

"Um, the little girl. Maia. You need to-"

"It'll be taken care of." Curtly.

Shawn wet his lips. "She's staying with Diana Skouris, NTAC-"

"And you're Tom Baldwin's nephew. It doesn't impress me, kid."

"When can I call-"

"Inside."

Shawn wasn't looking, stumbling a little on the uneven steps. He felt the officer's grip biting into his arm, tried to ease it a little. The men were treating him like-

A 4400.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You're going in a holding cell."

"You can't-"

"Kid-" the fingers on Shawn's arm dug deeper-"try something. Anything. If it was up to me, you'd be in a cell for the next twenty years. Quarantined."

X

Maia was perched on the edge of a deserted desk, slowly kicking her heels against it. Thump, thump. The soles of her shoes made little squeaking noises, something to break the monotony of jangling phones and mechanical voices answering them. The older policeman had brought Shawn in a few minutes before, and he looked miserable. Maia knew the babysitter was concerned for her as well; he needn't be, but there was no way to tell him that. She could only watch his back, as he was seated in front of another desk- this one occupied- answering questions. Or not. He kept glancing at his hands, fidgeting with the cuffs. Maia wished they'd take them off. She knew the hostile stares or whispered conversations going on had something to do with the fact they were 4400's. Regardless of the policeman's promise, no one talked to her. The ladies had moved away, tentative smiles not quite breaking through their aversion. It was etched across their faces clearly as ink.

Maia twisted a blond pigtail; they were slightly uneven, but she'd tried to do them herself, during the dark ride over, and she wasn't sure how they looked. One was definitely larger than the other. When was she ever going to get it right?

Thump, thump. Shawn had twisted in his chair, he was trying to get her attention. Maia smiled and waved, the light in her eyes dying when the man to Shawn's right jerked the sitter around...

X

"I don't think-"

"If you want things to stay civil between us-I suggest you stop thinking and start answering questions."

Shawn's eyes were wide and dark, the smudges underneath only accenting them. He stared at his fingers. "I'm still waiting to make my phone call."

"I think you need to take a little walk." The officer motioned his suspect up, and started off down a narrow corridor. Shawn followed slowly, uncertain of their destination.

"You see these cells? They're nice up full of the typical assortment. The other side of this pretty little town."

Shawn tried to ignore the sick feeling that sprung up when he stepped into the world of bars. Doors that only opened one way. It was just like quarantine, but this time he wasn't the sole occupant. Two other men lounged against the back wall.

"We're going to let you cool off in here."

Shawn clamped down on his initial reaction to turn and run. The air was cold, colder because it was windowless and strange. He was still wearing Uncle Tommy's shirt, the white one with thin blue stripes. And his jeans, with only a faint bloodstain on the knee. He stifled a shiver, stepping into the cell only far enough to let the door close behind him.

"Keep an eye out. He's a 4400."

"Thanks for giving them warning," Shawn muttered, under his breath. His dark look wasn't lost on the officer, who smiled benignly.

"You really one of them people?" The gray haired man to Shawn's left stepped forward. His weathered face was brown from constant exposure to the elements, clothes threadbare and mismatched. A soiled red sweatshirt hung off the gaunt frame, paired with black jeans and an orange vest. The large feet were encase in toe-pinching rubber boots.

"I'm a 4400, but-"

Shawn wasn't allowed the time for a diplomatic answer. Something flashed by his head, and he ducked as a boot ricocheted off the door behind him.

"You stay away from us, you hear me? We don't need none of your kind."

"I don't want to bother you." Kicking the footwear aside. "Just leave me alone."

At least they'd taken the handcuffs off. He stared down at his wrists, absently rubbing feeling back into them. Ignoring the thousand whispers that seemed to spring from the very walls.

Freak.

X

Shawn was startled from his uneasy sleep by the sound of steps. Cautious and careful, he doubted it was one of the police, coming for rounds. No, this was a different intruder. His cheek was hot, where it had been buried against the knee of his jeans. Shawn had taken up residence in the corner, nearest the door. This ancient jail cell still had bars across the front, black and grimy.His two cell mates were sprawled on the stained mattresses along the back. Shawn doubted they'd share a bunk with him, so the returnee had drawn his legs up and rested as best he might.

Water dripped steadily in the background. It had an unearthly quality, almost as if he was imprisoned in a dungeon or infamous French prison. Shawn squinted in the semi darkness, stealing a glance over his shoulder. The shadow took shape, a thin women with something in her hands-

Camera.

The returnee jerked around, an arm shielding his face. The last thing he wanted was a front page spread. Not only would it embarrass his family, it'd discredit what little respect the 4400's had managed to garner.

The flash went off, a second too late.

"Come on, just one."

"Isn't there a rule against that?"

His voice was muffled in the corner, but he didn't care if she'd understood him or not. This was his privacy, what the heck was wrong with people?

"Hey. What are you doing?" The sleep roughened voice was too close.

"4400 brought in the newspapers!"

"Lady, I can't sleep!"

A dozen protests sounded off the corridor, but the picture taker remained unfazed. "I just want one clean shot of the returnee, that's all."

Shawn's weather beaten companion jostled him. "Give her what she wants so I can get some sleep."

"No."

"Listen, kid, you want to have this whole jail against you?"

"I think that's already a given."

"Just turn around, you don't have to smile or nothin'. It'll be in the news, good or bad."

"I shouldn't even be here."

"Ahuh. Should have thought about that before you beat on that kid."

"I was jumped, not the other way around. There were two kids-"

"Nice. There were really three or four and you beat the crap out of them all. I'm impressed, really. Now why don't you flash your pretty smile and shut up?"

Before he could retort, the inmate grabbed Shawn's shirt and half lifted him to his feet, shoving the returnee against the bars.

Shawn got an arm in front of his face, but it wasn't enough. The woman was snapping pictures, too many before he jerked free.

"Thanks."

And that was that. Camera and stranger disappeared, the disgruntled sleepers settling down.

Shawn slid to the floor, too angry to do anything but glare.

X

Tom Baldwin bit down on a seventh insult, waiting impatiently as Diana gathered up Maia. The child appeared unharmed by the incident, uncurling from a sleepy doughnut position on an overstuffed chair.

"I can't believe Shawn let-"

"I'm sure he did the best he could." Baldwin scanned the doorway, anxious to confront the desk sergeant. Trying to restrain himself.

"Tom, aren't you listening to anything I'm saying? A little girl just spent half the night in a police station, the least your nephew could have done was contact us. There was no need for Maia-"

"I doubt the cops let him make friendly phone calls, Diana, or he obviously would have told me he'd been arrested."

"Right." The dark haired agent smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm just upset-"

"I understand completely. Believe me."

X

The hall was lit by ceiling lights, every other bulb glowing orange in the faded, greenish confines. This station was more run down than the others up town. Tom couldn't help wondering why the police had brought his nephew down here. Long association with investigative work told him something wasn't right.

The officer on duty looked him over, lingering long enough to let Tom know he wasn't impressed. NTAC or not.

"Where's Shawn Farrell being kept?"

The lanky policeman pointed toward the last cell on Tom's right.

"I want to talk to him. Not in there."

"I'll see about it." Not promising much. Baldwin wandered off as the cop finished his inspection.

"Shawn."

His nephew was sitting in the corner, head resting against the chipped paint.

"Shawn!"

"Uncle Tommy?" Confusion, for an instant. Then the wide eyes opened in surprise. "You don't know how good it is to see you."

It took the returnee a moment, because his legs had fallen asleep. Shawn wrapped his fingers around the bars, breathing a sigh of relief. "They wouldn't let me call you, and-"

"I know. I know. Question is, did you say anything? What did they ask you? You didn't-"

"Relax, Uncle Tommy. I didn't tell them a thing."

"Good. Then that's good."

"Do you think you can get me out of here?"

Baldwin cast a look around. "There's something going on. They shouldn't even be holding you. Legally."

"I think I know what it's about. I-"

"Not here, Shawn." The warning came out too sharply.

"Okay. Okay." Susan's son nodded, not quite meeting Tom's gaze.

Baldwin tried again, keeping his voice normal with an effort. "Look at me. Listen. None of this is your fault, I don't blame you for any of it."

"They brought Maia down here, too. I'm so sorry."

"Shawn, she's halfway home by now. We found her sleeping, snug as a bug. It's probably all been one big adventure."

"I didn't want to put her through this."

Tom awkwardly reached through the bars, touching his nephew's shoulder. "I know. Diana understands."

"Sometimes I think it would have been better if you'd never found me."

"Found-"

"That night. I should have just left town." Shawn studied the wall. "I didn't know-how things were- if I had, I wouldn't have caused all this trouble."

"What aren't you telling me?" Tom's grip unconsciously tightened.

"The papers. They'll be all over this by morning. They've got pictures-"

Tom massaged his forehead. "You know, we'll deal with that when the time comes." He ignored the guilt in Shawn's eyes, because he couldn't deal with it right now. Between Linda, Kyle and Shawn, he'd hardly had a day that wasn't dramatic. Upsetting. Emotional.

"First things first. We have to get you home."

X

Night breezes rustled debris, sky a black canvas where stars never shone. The perpetual glow from city lights cast an orange haze far into the heavens. Beside Baldwin, Shawn took a shivering breath. Maybe it was nerves, maybe the sudden temperature change. He wrapped cold arms about his chest, studying the deserted streets. It felt so good to be free.

"Hey. Better get you in the car." Tom shouldered past, impatient to be away.

Shawn fumbled with the door, got it open. Slid into the seat, not saying anything.

"You want some music?" Breaking the uncomfortable silence. Baldwin turned up the volume, any excuse not to talk. Because Shawn was vulnerable. And he didn't want to deal with it. Because then it would be like letting someone in, after all these months and months of not caring. "You like this?"

"Lifehouse. They're good."

"Ya."

Shawn was watching the road, without really seeing.

"You want to talk about it?"

"What?" Blankly. The way Kyle played dumb. But Shawn wasn't Kyle, and Tom didn't care enough to press the subject. It wasn't worth getting into an argument over, especially when all he wanted was sleep.

"So what's your theory?" Tom relaxed, flexing his fingers against the wheel.

"Gifford. It's the only explanation."

"How so?"

"My guess is, he played dirty. Bribed the cops, maybe they owe him some favors. I don't know. The whole thing was weird."

"Ya, well I'll get to the bottom of it. You can count on that." Baldwin nodded. "That explains the whole run down, other side of town thing." Studying Shawn's profile. "Don't breathe a word of this. To anyone."

"What about the papers?"

"This isn't just about you. Whether you know it or not, the situation isn't in my hands anymore. Anything directly effecting the 4400's, large scale, well, that's up to NTAC."

A new song played over the next few minutes, then Shawn himself broke the silence. "Does this mean I'll be going back?"

"I can't make you any promises, Shawn. Jarvis is the one who makes the calls."

X

"You didn't have to do all this."

Tom eyed his nephew who was expressively staring at the plate heaped high with french toast.

"I was up early."

"You must have hardly slept at all."

"I got enough. You'll find, Shawn, that the older you get the more thinking you do lying awake at night."

"It gets worse?"

"Couldn't sleep?"

"I guess we should have just sat up." Shawn was fidgeting with a fork, idly spearing breakfast.

"You feeling alright?"

The returnee shook his head. "What?"

"Nothing." Baldwin folded his paper and sighed. Decided to toss it in the garbage before Shawn got ahold of it. Not exactly front page, but there was a definite article and hazy picture describing the 4400 as a "Silent Threat."

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"Ya."

The agent watched his nephew absently pooling syrup on the stacked bread. "Step up, don't you think?"

"Step-"

"Toast. We went French."

Shawn plastered a smile across his face. "It's really great, Uncle Tommy."

"Sure. Well, don't eat too fast."

"I won't."

Sunlight splashed across the table, coming of dawn. Tom checked his watch, trying to get a read on Shawn before he left. "You going to stick around here, right?"

"I might watch some TV."

"Good. You into The Simpsons? Kyle always loved that show."

"That's still on, huh?"

"I think so." Tom hesitated. "You could use Kyle's stereo."

"Probably get arrested for disturbing the peace." The laugh didn't quite cut it.

"Look, Shawn, I'll see that NTAC looks into this. Don't worry, it's what we're trained to do. It's nothing like a bomb threat or a pot shot in the street."

"Ya. I guess it's just piecemeal to you."

"You are fine, aren't you? Maia's fine, everyone's okay-"

"But when is it going to stop?" Shawn raised his eyes for the first time. "How do you know what someone's going to pull next? What if you weren't NTAC. When are people going to leave us alone?"

"I think you should appreciate the fact that you have got connections. Don't worry about the others, that's my job and I spend too much time on it as it is."

"We're all in this together."

Tom raised a hand in frustration as Shawn pushed away from the table, leaving his meal untouched.

X

Uncle Tommy didn't understand. He couldn't.

The returnee sank onto the couch, remembering last night. The movie he'd shared with Maia. How perfect it had been, almost like he'd found a family. Again.

The jail. Quarantine, all over again. The mindless pacing, tests and questions, the lack of privacy and fear of the unknown. People constantly trying to get you to talk about things you couldn't remember. It never occurred to them that not remembering was driving the returnees insane. As far as Shawn knew, no had recalled a single detail, either.

He wanted out. Maybe go down to the lake where he had returned to normality. To life.

What a joke. This wasn't a forgiving world, at least where freaks where concerned.

Studying his fingers.

I'm a freak.

He hit the remote control, and it flipped across the room.

He didn't even have the courage to turn on the television.

X

Susan knocked three times. Deciding that no one was going to come to the door, she unburied the spare key from her brother's usual hiding place. Under a faded frog with goggling yellow eyes. She always hated that frog. It had come with the house, and never seemed to fit into the carefully manicured lawn.

"Hello?"

Her heels made tiny clicking sounds on the hardwood floor, accompanied by the gentle swish of her clothing. Susan was dressed up; she had fallen into the pattern of being a prominent lawyer's wife. It was what Joe expected from her. And he had no idea of her destination that morning. If he had-well, he wasn't going to find out. As far as Joe was concerned, her promise to stay well clear of Shawn was still firmly intact.

"Anyone home?"

The house needed dusting. There were spiders frolicking along the ceiling, silent witnesses to the lack of female attention.

"Tom-"

The word cut short at the sight of someone, deep asleep. Shawn.

He was wearing the same exact clothes as the day he'd stepped out of the house with his cousin.

Susan felt the sting of unshed tears. His face looked the same, too. Just tired, more haggard. She'd been angry to see that face, portrayed in fuzzy detail over an article on the 4400 threat. Embarrassed.

"Shawn?"

He didn't stir, stretched out across the sofa. So much taller than Danny. More like his father as the years flew past.

"Shawn, it's mom."

It seemed nothing would wake him. Susan moved forward, almost unconsciously. She was drawn to the sight of her son, this son, the one who'd walked out of her life one day and just never came back. She still couldn't grasp the fact-it wasn't Shawn's fault. All she knew was that he had left her. Alone, her and Danny.

But he was so still. So peacefully sleeping, almost as if the time had never passed. He didn't know his step father, not like Danny did. Or even his half brother. Susan felt a small twinge of resentment. She couldn't bring Shawn back with her, to his home, because Joe wouldn't like it. And Colin was using Shawn's room now. All of her son's things had been piled in the attic or thrown away.

The floorboards creaked beneath her, and it was enough to disturb him.

"What-"

"It's me." Susan actually stepped back, slightly afraid. The way he sat up, that fierce expression. Maybe she didn't know him after all.

"Mom?" And the hard edge melted, replaced with a vulnerability she'd never seen in her easygoing son's eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check in on your Uncle Tommy." Why couldn't she say it. The smile was too bright, too cheerful for him too believe.

"Are you okay?" He swung his legs to the floor, rubbing a hand across his eyes. Eyes that seemed darker; still the same, but a stranger's.

"I was doing some shopping and it was my day off, so I dropped in."

"Oh." Shawn stared at her blankly, as if trying to process what she was telling him. "You're still working?"

"Not as much, but-"

"I thought you married a lawyer."

This was the Shawn of old. He was so protective of her, too much. Susan studied a magazine that had come to rest half under the sofa. "I don't work everyday-"

"I thought things were better for you." Knowing how much she'd grown to hate her job.

"Well, I stay home two days a week. Can't do all the baking I'd like, but I still make pies every Saturday."

"I miss your apple pie." A grin started to break out.

"You'd better. There's nothing in the store that could compare."

"Nothing in the state."

"It used to be country."

"Well, I wasn't so well traveled."

Susan studied her son's face with an intensity that they both understood. There was no going back. At least, not for now.

"Danny said that he had a new brother." Studying the tear in his jeans.

"You do, too."

"I hope that he helped when I was gone."

"He did. Not at first, because I couldn't stand him." Susan sank onto a cushion. "He was in your room, fooling around with your things. I almost hated him."

"I'm glad."

"Shawn!" Then, "what's happened to you? I've never seen you quite like this before."

"Meaning?"

"Don't go getting defensive. I changed your diapers, remember?"

"I don't fit in. With Danny, or you, even Uncle Tommy. He's been really good to me, and I'm sorry that I've caused him so much trouble, but he doesn't want me here. All I do is remind him that Kyle's the one in a coma."

"It'll take time. He's trying so hard not to blame everything on you, now that he knows it isn't true." Susan touched her son's arm.

"He does?"

"Stop picking at the furniture and look at me."

"I just don't know what to think anymore."

"You will. Thing is, childhood has come and gone. It's time you started making your own decisions."

"So many options." Shawn held his forehead. "Did you see the article?"

Susan folded her hands. "I saw it. I heard it. I heard about it. But that doesn't make any difference."

"Not to you, maybe. You're my mom." Shawn smiled, almost shyly.

"You can't let what everyone else thinks bother you so much. And you can't shut yourself up in here. Do you have any friends-any of the 4400 still around?"

"I haven't been able to find out. I'm just trying to have one normal day here."

"I think you should come to dinner."

"What about Joe? He doesn't like me."

"I know. But we can't help that."

"If I come, he's going to take it out on you."

"You, too. But it's still my house."

"You have a point there." Shawn almost laughed at his mother's calm. She and Uncle Tommy were as different as night and day.

"When you come, you'll tell everyone what your plans are. Have some goals, don't let Joe bully you. I'll invite your uncle, too. It should prevent some problems."

"That's not exactly everything."

Shawn wasn't looking at her, a pained expression marring the handsome face.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"It's nothing. I just don't think that Gifford is going to let me waltz in and do nothing about it."

"You mean repurcussions, don't you? You think that Joe had something to do with your arrest."

"It's pretty obvious. The guy doesn't like me. He came here and practically told me what would happen to me if I tried contacting Danny again."

"And used me as leverage."

Shawn shrugged. "I think he does care about you."

"He does. He's a hard man, Shawn, but he loves me. And your brother. We needed to be taken care of, especially after-"

The returnee jumped up, pacing in front of the television. "You mean after I left?"

"It wasn't your fault." Susan studied her tall son, the white tee and hair sticking in disarray. How could her baby boy be a man? It was too soon. She didn't know if it was possible to remain calm, matter of fact. Tell him to be an adult and everything would work out. She wanted to take him in her arms and cry with, him, comforting and maternal. She wanted to be his mom again.

"I probably should be getting going."

There was never a moment for looking back. It wasn't what either of them needed. After a brief silence, Susan felt her eldest child's arms wrap her in a hard embrace. He knew how difficult it was for her, too.

"I love you, Shawn. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't."

"And try not to live on sugar cereal."


	9. The Great Pea Incident

This is short, but I wanted to post it while I had a chance. I'm afraid I'm rushing as usual. Until I get my own computer, I'm at the mercy of a horrendous villain. My brother. Any ways, there are thanks in order! THANKS to Klnolan, for being encouraging, observing, and for leaving a nice review. Not that all of your reviews aren't nice, ( : I really appreciate it, Klnolan! I also would like to thank-oh my gosh? Was that lightning? No, that was Sarah. She writes reviews faster than the speed of light. She always has witty, encouraging comments to make, for which fact I am very grateful. I make her a virtual pie. I hope she likes apple ( :...and a bowl of Shawn's peas. See below, lol. And this beast (who is older than me) wants the computer back, so I will post this and send more THANKS to all my readers and reviewers! 

This chapter is dedicated to Sarah and Klnolan. Thanks for letting me know what you think!

NINE

"I still don't think it's a good idea, Shawn."

"You and me both."

Tom watched his nephew slipping on different shirts, trying to find one that reasonably fit his taller frame. "Here's another."

Shawn took the pale yellow shirt, so familiar that his fingers clenched over the fabric. His eyes grew misty, sucking in his lower lip.

"You don't make the scene like your cousin did, but the color suits you."

"Uncle Tommy. I can't wear this."

"I don't need Joe sneering at you over a plate of spaghetti with your shirt sleeves half way up your elbow."

"Only a little short in the wrist." Shawn laughed, the sound choked.

"Put it on. I mean it."

"Okay." The vulnerable faced returnee stood in front of the mirror, straightening his collar. "Not bad."

"Not bad at all." Tom swatted his nephew on the shoulder. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Studying his young nephew, Baldwin noted the way Shawn had turned into a man. Or was trying so hard to do so.

On the sidewalk, several groups of teens straggled past, linked arms and noisy in the evening light. Baldwin chuckled to himself as Shawn moved through a small cluster of girls, apparently unaware of their admiring glances. If Susan's son planned on sticking around, 4400 or not, his uncle would have to lay down a few ground rules.

"What?" Shawn hesitated at the door, studying Baldwin across the roof.

"Nothing."

The returnee looked blank, watching his uncle curiously. "What's so funny?"

Tom shook his head. "Just get in the car, Shawn."

"Dibs on the radio."

"Fair enough." Tom swung out into the street, alternating his gaze between the rearview mirror and his passenger's face. The little wrinkle in his nephew's forehead reminded him of Susan. The way he concentrated on one thing, fiercely intent on finding the perfect solution. History exam, song, flowers for his mom. Everything had to be just right. Another inherited trait.

"Here's one."

"The Cars." Baldwin shrugged his shoulders. "Could be worse."

"They're great."

"Little old school for you?"

"Uncle Tommy, they're a classic."

The streets flashed past, trees and kids tumbling off bikes, couples with grocery bags and dreamy smiles. It was that kind of day, with a sinking sun and balmy air that made one want to dance.

"If things get out of hand, stand up and walk away." Tom's voice came out of the music induced silence.

Shawn nodded.

"Is that clear? I want to hear you on this one."

"I get it."

"Good. Remember, this is for your mother."

"I know."

"Let's go."

X

Shawn unfolded his tall frame, tugging the back of his shirt down. The air had suddenly taken on a hot and heavy quality, leaving his heartbeat fast and erratic. It looked the same. Everything about the house, save the flowers and little shrubs along the side were taller. There was the window leading to his bedroom, and his car-his car was parked along the curb. Swallowing bitterness, wondering who's it was now.

"Are you coming?"

Each step seemed to be pulling him back, toward the past. History that had ached since his return, but scared him at the same time. Shawn was about to confront the last of his past, and that alone made his step falter.

It was hard to keep his eyes on one thing. Shawn found his gaze darting rapidly, trying to spot Danny. Uncle Tommy was at the door, and he looked like a fool, straggling behind. Shawn stopped, unable to face them just yet. He couldn't do this, he needed more time. It was one thing to return home, caught up in happy emotions. Quite another, visiting a family that had been his. Once. Oh, hello. I used to leave here. I'm not really welcome, and is this Colin who is basically replacing me and yes, I'd like more peas.

"Shawn!"

The wind tugged at borrowed clothing, rearranging the returnee's hair. It stung his eyes, or at least that's what he pretended.

"Shawn, come on!"

If he kept right on walking, he'd be out of sight in a moment. They couldn't even see him through the curtained windows.

Uncle Tommy was going to be mad.

Sometimes you just had to forget about what everyone else wanted. With each stride, Shawn's breath became easier. He didn't have to confront his substitute. Colin. His step father. Susan's hopeful smile that things could return to normal. Couldn't she see that was never going to happen?

The desire to crush something became uppermost in his mind.

"Slow down."

Surprise surprise, Uncle Tommy. Shawn steeled himself, trying to wipe the emotion from his face and almost succeeding.

"If you needed a moment, why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't-I don't need anything." From anyone. Snapping twigs.

"Stop walking."

Shawn brushed the hold aside, raising his hands. "Leave me alone."

"No. No." Tom was breathing heavily. "I'm not just going to leave you alone. You have to face things, Shawn. Turning your back never made anything go away."

"I can't deal with this right now."

"Oh. So what. You going to run away, jump off a bridge? Be my guest."

Shawn's back was to the brilliant sunset, his face unreadable. "You don't understand."

"I know. No one does. But believe me, there's a lot of people in the same boat. You have to go back."

The returnee studied his fingers."Who's going to make me?"

"You are." Tom sighed, matching his stride to Shawn's. "Listen. I've seen what you've been going through, since all this started.I know it hasn't been easy. Part of it has been me, because I'm too pig headed to forgive you for letting Kyle drink that night. For being on the beach. For the coma, and everything else that wasn't even your fault. But if you could get past being abducted by who knows what, quarantine, arrests, NTAC, TV spots and newspaper headlines- you can definitely ace this."

"It's not that simple." Pain leaked out of that voice, indismissable.

"No, it's not. Because there's a mother and a brother back there who love you. And if you deserve that, if you think you can take any of that and hang onto it-it's time to turn around."

The brown eyed returnee stared at the sidewalk. Little ants, bustling about, shades of black, red and chocolate.

Baldwin fixed his attention on the sighing trees, lavender tinted sky framing Shawn in a vast portrait. Waited.

"When I step into that house, everything I've held onto for so long will be gone."

"I know."

Perhaps he did. After all, Kyle's and Linda's absence must have changed the Baldwin Home. Shawn bent his head, trying to come to terms with himself.

"It's your future." And Baldwin started back, not sparing his nephew a second glanced. But he was holding his breath.

"Uncle Tommy-" Shawn's frustrated expression had melted, leaving a lost, vulnerable light in his eyes. The returnee bit his lip.

"I'll be right there." Answering the unspoken question. "All the way."

Shawn touched his uncle's arm in a rare gesture of affection, visibly bracing himself. Tom couldn't help wondering how an evening of Gifford would affect the fragile emotional construction of the 4400.

"You left your mom's roses in the car."

X

"There, now isn't this nice?" Susan couldn't help beaming over the steaming platters of food. She had outdone herself with all of Shawn's favorite dishes-fried chicken, lasagna, potato bake, apple pie-and peas.

Fading daylight streamed into the room, dust motes dancing in the yellow light. Shawn was seated across from her, strategically situated so that his parent could soak up every bit of his visit. The evening sun bathed the returnee's features with a golden cast, harshly illuminating the sleepless nights, but strangely softening.

"This is really great." Tom enthusiastically buttered hot rolls, reaching for a drumstick.

"Try finishing what's on your plate before you take seconds," his sister playfully admonished.

"It's been so long since I had a real sit-down dinner. Aside from eating out."

"What about you, Shawn?"

"Huh?" The returnee looked stressed, the planes of his face taut. "Oh, the food? It's great, mom. It really is."

"You haven't touched a thing."

Tom butted in with his usual lack of tact. "You didn't finish your breakfast, did you?"

"I had an entire pizza for lunch." Dryly.

"Well, no pie till you finish your vegetables." Susan could hardly take her gaze off the returnee, even for a moment.

Shawn fingered his sleeve. "You made peas."

"I remembered."

Tom looked blank. "Am I missing something?"

"It's the pea story." Shawn almost smiled, his expression relaxing at the memory.

"Why don't you try them, Shawn." Susan took advantage of the lapse in her son's withdrawn manner. "Just the way you like them."

"Yes. They do look the same." The returnee took a bite, laughing through the mouthful.

"You boys nearly killed me that day."

"It wasn't all my fault."

"But you were the oldest."

"Danny-" Shawn's voice dropped off. "Danny was the one who started it."

"For a change."

Shawn ate a moment, in silence. The green vegetables were fresh, lightly fried in butter and seasoned with marjoram. It was a peculiar recipe, but it had stuck with the family ever since he'd invented it one evening. Years ago...and Danny had ended up having a 'who can fit more peas into their nose' contest which went slightly awry. He didn't even know what had possessed them to try cooking, it wasn't like they were old enough to be fooling around with the stove. Much.

"I remember. I was sick and you two decided to take over for me. Breakfast in bed."

"All it did was send you to the emergency room." Shawn ruefully took a sip of water. "And Danny was freaking out the whole way. Hanging out the window-"

Tom gestured with his fork. "Why were you cooking peas for breakfast?"

Shawn blinked. "I like peas," he offered, helplessly.

"I've gotten that, trust me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Kyle? Painting his room pea green?"

"Aw, come on, Uncle Tommy. That was like ten years ago-"

The room fell silent. To the returnee,it only seemed like ten years...instead of thirteen.

Shawn cleared his throat. The lasagna was good. Susan never skimped on the sauce, melted cottage cheese stringing from his fork with each bite. Now that he'd tasted it, Shawn could hardly believe how good it was. He had almost forgotten.

"Who drinks coffee for dinner on a hot day?" Susan, making conversation.

"A man who relies on caffeine instead of sleep." Tom finished a third piece of chicken and sighed. "We really have to do this more often."

"Maybe next time I'll make a coffee cake."

Shawn ducked his head lower, purposely avoiding the adult scrutiny. Ever since he'd taken a step inside, the room had assaulted him with memories. And there was no need to brace himself for a reunion after all. Joe had gone with Danny and Colin to the movies. He couldn't help wondering how Susan had engineered that.

"Anyone else up for ice cream?" Baldwin left the table, purposely giving his sister some time alone with the returnee.

"You look nice." Susan studied her son over a slice of pie. He did, the pale yellow shirt unbuttoned at the throat, contrasting nicely with his dark eyes. Eyes as wide and expressive as his father's.

"You do too, mom." Thinking she really did.

Susan rested her elbows on the table top."In a way, losing you was like losing the last piece of your father. All the good memories that I held onto-I guess they were wrapped up in you."

Shawn laid his knife aside, studiously chewing.

"Danny's hot tempered. That reminds me of your father, too."

"Did he know I was coming?"

Now it was Susan's turn to study her plate. "Well, it's for the best. Right now, any ways."

"He knew?" Trying to keep the distress out of his voice.

"You have to understand him, Shawn. He wants to see you, but Joe-well, Joe's been pressuring him, and Danny wants approval so badly."

"I get it."

"Are you going to eat some pie?"

"I won't even be able to walk out of here."

"No, that'll be after ice cream. Guess what kind?"

Shawn studied the ceiling. "H-m-m. Mint chocolate chip?"

"I'm impressed."

"As you should be." Shawn motioned his mother to stay seated, heading for the kitchen. "I'll find Uncle Tommy." Pausing to wrap an arm about her shoulders. Shawn leaned down, planting a rare kiss on her cheek.

Susan responded, ignoring the huskiness in her son's voice. "You inherited that taste from your mother."


	10. The Runner

To the reviewers! To Klnolan for support and enouraging this story along. It really means a lot when you bother to let me know if you liked the story. I am offering you a slice of Tom's pizza today, as you don't enjoy peas. V ( : I hope you like it. There's a stuffed crust.lol. To Sarah I have no food to give-there are only dehydrated peas o left, after sitting in the bowl all night. But I bring you something from somewhere other than Susan's kitchen-I bring you a rose---o from the bush Shawn squashed. You will understand this better after reading below. As far as "kind" contests go-you've won. I am only responding to the very nice things that you said in the first place. You are the reason I even continued this story, so bug off and let me be nice. Okay? lol. I've written lots of stories, and you're one heck of a reviewer. I actually realized that you responded to some of the stories I've written on here before! But those were under a different user name. Please accept the rose (it's actually from Shawn. I was kind of ticked that he wanted me to give it to you, instead of keeping it for myself. Oh well) in all it's squash-edness. Here. ---o

And I end. It's probably about time. ( :

TEN

Shawn sorted through the dusty stacks of DVD's littering his cousin's closet. Floor space was definitely at a minimum. Swiping a shirt out of his eyes, the returnee chuckled softly to himself. Beauty and the Beast.

Dirty Dancing. Lucas.

"What are you doing in there?" Tom's voice made Shawn jump, and the movies slid from his grasp.

"I was looking for something to watch. Didn't know Kyle was such an 80's freak."

"There are plenty of those downstairs."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Tommy." Shawn rose to his feet, eyes portraying his confusion.

Baldwin's gaze roamed over the neatly stacked DVD's, and his face hardened. "You changed them all around."

"Well, ya, I mean they were spread all over the floor. I was stepping on them."

The agent strode past his nephew, firmly elbowing him aside.

Shawn cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"Just don't from now on, okay?"

The returnee helplessly watched as his uncle took in every detail of the cluttered room. "Everything's changed."

"I picked a few things up-"

Baldwin continued as if he'd never heard him. "It's not even his anymore."

If a pin had dropped, it would have sounded like thunder. The sparrow chipping contentedly outside suddenly seemed incongruous.

Shawn held his tongue, letting the moment slip away. Now wasn't the time to start an argument. Something was bothering his uncle; for one thing, he'd never come upstairs that Shawn could remember. And it was hours before Tom usually returned from work.

"I'm sorry, " he offered, softly. He almost thought the older man looked close to tears.

"Forget about it." The agent's voice was harsh. Turning to study his nephew's face."Change your clothes and come on. We have somewhere to be."

X

Shawn hastily slipped out of the wrinkled tee and snatched up his old shirt. It had almost returned to normal, the bloodstains having receded to the background. Tom's oxy clean had removed the dark splotches, but also bleached the entire fabric lighter. As long as it was serviceable.

Running a comb through his hair. It had a habit of slicking over his forehead like a little kid fresh for school, and it irritated him. He didn't care to look like a nerd. Freak was one thing.

The returnee was hastily tying his shoes when the front door banged.

"Come on, Shawn!"

If Uncle Tommy bothered to tell him where they were going-

X

Baldwin rested against the wall, ignoring the streaming sunlight and sheer contentedness of a perfect summer day. Taking in his nephew, who took the stairs four at a time. The kid was so dang tall. Tom disliked people who looked down at him, even by an inch. It was harder to intimidate them.

Shawn's expression radiated uncertainty, the look he tended his uncle far from trusting. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there." Tom scooped up his keys, absently fidgeting with them.

The returnee back stepped. "I forgot something. Be right out."

"Shawn-"

But the slender man waved a placating hand. "I have to use the bathroom , Uncle Tommy."

Baldwin's lips narrowed. No denying that Shawn was good. Darn good. He almost had Tom fooled-but not quite. "I'll wait," he offered, mildly.

The returnee shrugged. "Don't bother. I'll be right out."

Seconds slipped into minutes, and Tom impatiently knocked on the bathroom door.

"Give me a minute, okay?" Shawn's voice sounded slightly exasperated.

Baldwin hesitated, then decided it was best to let Shawn think he was unaware of the subterfuge. "I'll be outside. Hurry it up!"

The agent walked over to the front of the house, slammed the door and ducked silently into the hallway. When the kid came out, he was going to grab him. Tom tapped his wrist watch.

Another ninety seconds, ticked off by the mantle clock.

"Shawn!"

No response. Baldwin mentally kicked himself. In any other situation, he would have anticipated this-

"That little-"

The bathroom window gaped open, flowered curtains fluttering in the breeze. Tom surveyed the lock he'd just broken, rubbing a sore shoulder. This was the first time he'd actually have to fix a door he'd kicked in.

He'd underestimated his nephew.

X

Shawn tumbled out, landing hard. His foot had gotten caught on the sill, so he ended up in an inglorious heap. Smack against the rose bush.

"Oh." He'd been so concerned with escaping, he hadn't stopped to use his head. Thorns made jagged stripes down one hand and the side of his face. He swiped the hand against his jeans, peering into the street. Few girls on bikes. Man walking a dog. It looked clear. There was no sign of Baldwin. Yet.

The returnee got to his feet, started to run-and narrowly missed tumbling into the flower garden.

"For the love of-" Shawn rubbed his ankle, realizing he must have twisted it when he fell.

There was no time for self recriminations. Making sure that the agent hadn't discovered his ploy- the returnee ducked into the road, making time as best he could. The ankle throbbed, but didn't burn. Shawn had been in enough tumbling contests with Danny to realize it was probably just a sprain.

A few cars passed him, but nothing resembling Baldwin's. At the first side street, he cut right and ducked behind a cluster of trees. Tom would expect him to take the road leading out. Get away.

But then he might figure Shawn would take the obvious course-double back and hide out by the house. Cicada's buzzed shrilly, contrasting with the steady hum of traffic off the main road. Leaves rustled overhead, emerald and cool in the mid day sun. The returnee steadied himself against the rough bark of an elm, frantically trying to form a plan of escape.

There was no right way. Catching his breath, the returnee dashed toward the next corner, ignoring the steadily mounting throb of the injured foot. As long as he could-

Tires squealed against asphalt. Shawn spared but one glance behind him-and Baldwin, already out of the car and running.

Give up or-

He took a short cut across someone's lawn, around a deck and past two more houses before coming up against a thin fence. It was chest high, cheap wooden slats strung between wire. Shawn shoved it, but the rusty metal squeaked, not giving an inch.

The returnee threw his whole weight into it, but there was no getting through. He choked for air, eyes searching through the sunlight for a way out. Tom was rounding the corner of the garage, there wasn't time to think.

Shawn backed away, running the last few steps and lunging for the top. He almost made it. The rickety fence swayed, unable to support him, but Shawn wrenched free, rolling clear on the ground below. Earth slammed up, cushioned by the uncut grass. Still, Shawn had trouble sucking in air, stumbling up and taking off toward the bustling corner grocery.

"Shawn!"

Not stopping, neither looking to right nor left. The ankle slowed him down, Shawn couldn't rest all his weight on it or it would give out. There was more traffic here, but he ducked past it, ignoring the yells and warning horns.

He- wasn't- going- back- to- quarantine-

Each pounding of the heart in his chest seemed to take on the words.

Not-going-back-

The small market loomed up, outdoor fruit stands and shopping carts, people milling about. It was the only option he had. Tom could take him down immediately on a full fledged street chase. He had to outsmart his uncle. Somehow. The NTAC Agent.

A small part of his mind knew it was hopeless, acknowledging defeat. Shawn put a hand to his side, trying to alleviate the stitch there. Looked down for one moment-

X

Tom landed hard. His fingers just managed to tag the returnee's shirt, and he brought his nephew down before he could twist free.

Shawn was half underneath him, not protesting. Yet.

"Come on." Baldwin got to his knees, resting a moment. The returnee started to move, but the agent straddled the kids leg's. "Nice and easy."

"Get off me." It was more a groan.

"When you promise to behave." As if Shawn were a child. Letting Shawn know his best wasn't good enough. He'd tried to outsmart NTAC, and Baldwin wanted to rub his nephew's face in it a little. "You never stood a chance."

People were starting to cluster around, so Tom eased up, wanting to clear out before anything made the news. "On your feet."

Shawn gingerly raised himself, rolling over to face Baldwin. That face had always been easy to read if the returneewas upset. The cool facade melted under Tom's glare, replaced with a look of defeat.

"Shawn. You played your little game. It's over."

There was blood on the returnee's lip, where it had met sidewalk. Shawn swiped his mouth, grimacing at the gravel in his palm.

Tom leaned down, grabbing at the runner's wrist. Hauled him to his feet. "Walk in front of me." A sharp jab to accompany the words.

Shawn didn't bother to protest, moving stiffly past the gaping onlookers. He tried not to favor the injured ankle, desperate to retain some shred of pride.

"Come on. We have to get out of here." Baldwin shoved Shawn in the back. He was in no mood for tea and sympathy.

The returnee picked up his pace, but stumbled against the curb and would have fallen if Baldwin hadn't held onto him.

Tom studied the thin stream of blood that ran down his nephew's chin. "Let me see that."

Shawn winced at the blunt examination, but didn't say a word.

It would need to be taped up, maybe a couple stitches. "You have your teeth." Satisfied the damage was temporary, Baldwin resumed his prodding.

Too angry to do anything just yet. Almost too angry to think straight. Tom ran a hand over his sweat slick forehead, noticing the tear in his jacket. It had been a gift from Kyle, birthday's past. The memory made him seethe. There was Susan's son, deliberately or not, wrecking every memento he clung to. "Let's go."

Shawn jerked away, not trying anything. The stony line of his profile told Tom nothing. Once his nephew had time to gather his emotions, there would be no seeing beneath the mask.

"Get in."

The returnee stiffly lowered himself into the car, avoiding Tom's gaze.

Neither of them said a single word.

X

Maybe Tom had called his bosses. Maybe he was too angry to deal with him now. Whatever the reason, Shawn was relieved to close the door to Kyle's bedroom, leaning against it. The returnee felt a strange mixture of sadness and humiliation. That Uncle Tommy would hand him over so readily. So deceitfully. That he had tried to outsmart NTAC, and failed. That NTAC was his uncle and he had failed so miserably.

Shawn dug a hand into his eyes. Trying to think. Blot out the crazy thoughts, the self doubt. The pain in his hands and his face and his ankle. He wanted to throw himself against the bed, sinking into those soft blankets and lose himself. But he would get blood on Kyle's things, another reason for Uncle Tommy to hate him.

Maybe he should be angry, too. But he hurt far too much, too exhausted to do anything but sink to the floor, back against the unyielding door, and stare blankly into space. What was left?

X

The evening meal came and went. Tom thawed frozen pizzas, baking them till the cheese bubbled and turned golden. He was indescribably angry, but starving as well. There would be no catering to his nephew tonight. If Shawn was hungry, he'd have to come downstairs and ask for food. Politely as you please. Baldwin wasn't running a hotel here.

The dishes were stacked in the sink, two cups of coffee downed and still no sign of his nephew. If Shawn's make up was anything similiar to Kyle's, then there would be brooding far into the night. Wounded pride routine.

It made Tom heartily sick.

After a few hours, the agent resurfaced in Baldwin's brain. It was entirely too quiet. Shawn might have tried a daring rooftop escape. Easing out of the overstuffed chair, Baldwin pressed his ear against the bedroom door. No light spilled underneath, so he twisted the handle. Quietly.

Dark, but not total blackness. The shade was up, and moonlight spilled across the room like liquid silver. Outlining shapes in the dimness. Baldwin slipped inside, releasing the knob slowly. Night breezes caressed his skin, cool and soothing. The returnee must be asleep.  
A small sound made his glance dart toward the window. The desk chair was drawn against it, graced by a still silhouette with head resting against the curtains. Shawn was leaning back, watching the silent stars. His features were chiseled in the semi dark, eyes open but empty. One foot rested on the bed, stretched out in front of him. Baldwin hesitated, but his nephew was as yet unaware that anyone was watching.

The returnee had discarded his begrimed shirt, hair messed and strangely child like in the moonlight. Tom stepped forward, eager to break the spell that wound about him. The foolish touch of sympathy at the sight of that candid face.

Face of a devil.

"Thinking about anything?" It came out rougher than he'd intended.

Shawn jerked his head about, starting to rise then thinking better of it.

"Planning another attempt?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Tommy." The words were low, dead.

It caught the agent unawares. Shawn must have taken surprise for something else, because he tried again, as emotionless as before. "I understand-you were just doing your job."

Baldwin felt the situation unraveling. He was no longer in control. The anger that drove him subsided, finding nothing to linger on. His nephew's face was weary, repentant.

"I understand." Shawn repeated the words, almost inaudibly. His eyelids drooped, almost too tired to stay awake.

Tom was startled by the suddenly slack body, but his nephew righted himself with a self deprecatory shake. He must have identified the concern in Tom's eyes, for his expression cooled. "Uncle Tommy, it's late."

"You need something checked out?"

"No."

Sleep had dulled the stubborn male edge, but when it fled, so did the exterior softness. "I won't try anything tonight."

"No, you won't." Baldwin gathered up an armload of blankets. "I want you to rest downstairs."

A pained expression flitted across those sensitive features. Shawn's brows lowered. "I said I wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, but your word isn't any good to me. Not anymore."

The returnee got to his feet, mouth twisting when he started down the steps. Tom followed, keeping the sheets from trailing on the floor. Shawn hadn't bothered to clean up, there was dirt and dried blood smudging his skin. Piling the armful on the couch, Baldwin waited while his nephew hobbled toward the bathroom. "Don't close it tight."

Shawn didn't acknowledge the warning, but he left the door slightly adjar, none the less.

It hurt Tom to say it. He knew he was going to destroy the bond so painfully built these past few days. But he didn't have a choice. Shawn had broken his trust first.


	11. You're Marked

I will be adding feedback as soon as possible. With the PC virus out there, I'm not even supposed to be online-this is up in two minutes, I have to run. Love you all, will be back to leave my thoughts to all of you!

ELEVEN

It was hard to sleep. Harder still, to lie in the dark and think thoughts. Made up scenarios involving quarantine, observation, everything about NTAC's dubious history he remembered. Shawn twitched under the light sheet, staring at the blackness and letting it wrap about him. If only one's mind could turn off for a moment. Like a lamp. He was so tired that every bit of him was one big ache, yet he couldn't close his eyes.

Uncle Tommy's house was silent. Not including the ticking of the wall clock and the constant settling of hardwood floors...maybe a siren, somewhere in the distance. It sounded lonely and strange. Shawn wondered if some one was lying just as he was, listening to the alarm. Wishing they weren't alone in the middle of the night.

This couch wasn't the best resting place. Shawn's feet hung over the edge unless he curled up, but his ribs were too sore for that. The injured foot was throbbing steadily, not enough to keep him awake.

One a.m. One twenty-

Tom's cell went off, cutting through Shawn's sleep numbed brain. He couldn't believe it was morning-rubbing palms into his eyes-no, the VCR showed two a.m.

Two? Thinking he might have imagined the noise, Shawn buried his face into a pillow. The cold material felt smooth and comforting against his cheek.

"Shawn!"

Uncle Tommy. The man was already dressed, tucking a shirt into black pants.

"Are you up?"

"What's going on?" the returnee's voice was rough with sleep

Baldwin brushed through, clattering things in the other room. Shawn heard a coffee tin slam onto the countertop.

"Get out of bed. Now!"

"Is something wrong?" The blankets refused to cooperate, twisting around one of the returnee's legs.

"Get changed."

Shawn slipped into his jeans and pulled a tee shirt over his shoulders, throwing the blankets onto Kyle's bed.X

Uncle Tommy was clutching a mug when the returnee limped into the overhead lit kitchen. "What is it?"

NTAC Agent Baldwin ran practiced eyes over his nephew's tall frame. The face, drawn and shadowed in the harsh light. "How's the foot?"

"Okay."

"Take a bottle of Tylenol from the bathroom cabinet. Throw it in the car. Grab a jacket and your shoes and come on."

"I'm not going anywhere." Shawn leaned against the table, only his eyes betraying his anxiety.

"I don't have time for this. It's my job. Now get your things or go as you are. I don't care!"

"Not until you tell me what this is about!"

Baldwin's hand clenched around the returnee's shoulder. "You'll have to trust me on this."

"That's not going to happen."

The words had barely left the returnee's mouth when Tom slammed him up against the stove. The agent wrapped his fist into the younger man's shirt, effectively controlling him. Ignoring the hurt shock in Shawn's expression.

"You'll be dead in the next twenty minutes."

"Dead-"

Tom didn't allow his nephew time to absorb this. "Unless you want to be really uncomfortable, grab those pain killers and come on." Starting for the door. "I've got a few things to get."

"What about food?" Shawn stared at him numbly, trying to process.

"We don't have time for the cooler." X

Two minutes later, Shawn was slipping on his seat belt. He had forgotten his jacket, but it wasn't that cold. The dampness actually felt good, seeping through the aches in his bruised skin.

Baldwin glanced over, tearing his gaze from the road. "If you're hungry, have a cereal bar from the glove compartment."

The returnee wasn't, but painkillers never set well on his empty stomach. Shawn chose a bar and carefully unpeeled it. "Mind telling me where we're headed?"

"No. Just where we were headed yesterday."

"Okay." The returnee chewed a mouthful. "Why now?"

"Because someone's going to try and kill you, Shawn."

Silence. "I don't-"

"Things are coming down around us. Two returnees died half an hour ago." Tom swung sharp left. "Judging from your coverage, I'm sure your turn was coming up. We already know someone's out to get you."

"Uncle-"

"The news covered stories on both people who were killed tonight. I'm afraid you're marked."

"Can NTAC-"

"You'll be safe there."

A picture of a young returnee flashed into Shawn's mind. He choked over a bite of food. "What about Maia?"

"Diana's getting her to safety. Faster than us. They're much closer."

"So, what, every 4400 is going to flock back to NTAC and-"

"Not many of the returnee's are nationally known. These people seem to be targeting the few who made headlines."

"Who-"

"I don't know. Yet." The agent frowned into the distance. "We could have waited for back up, but I think the longer we wait, the harder it's going to be to get you in."

Shawn sank back against the seat, glad for once that his uncle was involved with NTAC. Wordlessly finishing the breakfast that tasted wooden.

"What the-get down. Get down!"

Baldwin's hand shoved Shawn's head onto his knees. "Stay down."

His pulse racing in his chest, the returnee wrapped his arms about his legs and tried not to panic.

He could feel the car slowing down.

Flashes of light raked the interior, voices and sound carrying through the night. It sounded like dozens of conversations, the throbbing of machines and scent of diesel fuel seeping into the vents.

"They've got the whole road blocked!" Tom's yell of frustration was followed by a grunt. "This isn't going to work. We'll have to find another way. Hang on!"

The warning came too late, Shawn's head flying up to hit the dash. They must have left the road.

"I'm cutting through here."

Feeling like a rag doll, Shawn grabbed hold and watched the wild shapes of trees lumber past. The car rattled along, steadily gaining speed on the gradual downward slant. The descent into blackness.Handfuls of greenery slapped the windows, branches scraping along the sides. Headlights bounced off trunks and natural debris, startling a pair of raccoons.

"What are you doing?" The shout had built up inside, Shawn's vain attempt to stay calm dissolving. "Uncle Tommy-"

"There's too many of them back there." Braking a little. "Maybe we can outsmart them."

"Slow down!"

The wheels spun on loose dirt, and the woods opened abruptly. They were back on paved road.

"Oh-" Shawn regretted the pills and the cereal both.

"Listen. I'm having some problems over here-" Baldwin's mechanical voice, droning on and on, cell pressed to his ear. Asking about Agent Skouris.

The returnee cracked his window, allowing fresh air to wash around him. Tossing his hair. Two seventeen a.m.

Baldwin's ruse seemed to have worked. No one had followed-yet. Keeping a sharp look out behind them, Shawn clutched the seat back and watched the pale road unraveling in their wake. Moonlight glinted off the highway, turning it to muted silver. There were few houses, if any, about. An occasional car passed them heading in the opposite direction, but it was mostly woods and bits of weed spread land. Baldwin had turned off the lights.

"And I thought taking a round about way would avoid this."

Shawn gathered his thoughts with an effort. "What?"

"NTAC has a few guys coming out, but it's not like we're the only case. We're probably spread pretty thin tonight. I hope Diana makes it in okay."

"Maybe she waited for help."

"I wish I could believe that."

Shawn stared solemnly at his uncle's profile. "You think she's out here like us? In trouble?"

"Not like us. She would cut through town, it's shorter. Safety in numbers-it's a lot harder to pick out a 4400 when there's a hundred other vehicles on the same road."

"How close are we?" Keeping his tone light.

"I don't know, Shawn. I think we can make it in another fifteen minutes. Maybe Carter will have picked us up by then."

"He's an agent?"

"Ya."

"Do you have an extra gun?"

"That's completely against the rules."

"It's better than the alternative. I won't touch it unless you tell me."

Baldwin raked his nephew's face with hard eyes. "Okay. But only then."

"I promise." Shawn paused. "What's that?"

"Sounds like trouble."

Both men strained in the silence, trying to make out the faint thumping sounds.

Tom grabbed the wheel in disgust. "Something must have jammed up underneath. Let's hope it isn't serious."

As if in cue, the engine sputtered unevenly. Shawn leaned across to read the fuel gage. "It's empty."

"Well, that's not something we can fix." Baldwin swung the wheel, trying to use up the last bit of gasoline. He veered into the trees, coaxing another yard and then two more. "Come on!"

When Shawn opened his door, the damp air hit him full in the face. It seemed to chase away the dream like feeling that this couldn't possibly be happening.

"Check it out." Baldwin handed him a flashlight, scanning the empty road.

Wet earth and prickly plants scraped against his back, dew soaking the thin fabric of his shirt. Shawn pushed himself farther under the car, beaming his light around the undercarriage.

"Find anything?"

"Not yet."

"You're looking for a hole."

"I get it." Shawn shrunk away from a fuzzy cluster of three leafed plants. "Wait- I see it."

Tom's voice was muffled. "How bad?"

"A couple of things are pretty banged up, but there's a crack here about a half inch across. We hit something hard."

"Get out here."

Agents weren't programmed to be polite. Shawn slid into the open, wiping grease from his cheek. "What's next?"

"Carter won't be here for another five minutes. It's the best NTAC can do."

"Are we just going to sit here and wait?"

"We head into the trees." Baldwin's grip bit across the returnee's arm. Something glinted in the patches of moonlight, something black and deadly.

They made there way into the thicker cover of the forest. It wasn't very far. Standing in the center, Shawn could make out the end of the woods on either side. In here, foliage was less thick, the damp wind lessened.

"Get down." Baldwin motioned toward a tree. "Sit with your back against it. Don't close your eyes for a second."

The returnee heard the soft snick of the safety on the agent's gun. It was real, then. There were people out there trying to kill him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Not now." Tom's answer was terse.

Still, Shawn felt guilty. It was because of him that they were hiding in a patch of trees in the middle of nowhere. The returnee tucked his knees under his chin, easing the ache of the injured ankle. It was yet to become real. This whole experience had to be the result of a sleepless night and too many pain killers.


	12. You Look Amazing

Thanks, Holly, for your feedback. Thanks to rockstarhobbit-I love that name- for the reviews! You are very kind to encourage me, and I am dedicating this chapter to you. So if you don't like it, oops! LOL

Thanks to SARAH are in order. Many, many thanks! I wanted to let you know that Shawn is, even now, clutching his moose. I think he has named it-I hope you won't be insulted, I daresay I don't know it's gender! I will stop calling it "it" because that is insulting. You are not the only one with gifts! Since Shawn has spent so much time in the woods of late, he braided some fresh bark into a very unique belt. Thefastener is comprised of polished acorn. You sort of have to pull it through a hole in the bark, sounds weird but proabaly works pretty well. Er-just don't wear it if you really need to hold something up. Decoration only? ( : I am very thankful for your reviews and your friendship. You always brighten my day, Sarah. ALWAYS.

Disclaimer: Hey, this is serious. If you don't like reading stories with errors, then don't read ANY futher. PLEASE take my advice so I don't have to listen to it later. Okay? Thanks ( : For the brave, please proceed. No, after you.

TWELVE

The night seemed to ooze around them, gnarled branches twisting through broken moonlight. It was a forest of scepter like shadows, clawed hands reaching toward the sky. Out here, the continual screeching of cicada's was a bare minimum. The chill wind kept most insects silent tonight. Shawn pressed his back against the rough tree, straining to catch a sound. Twig snapping. Dried weeds crunching underfoot. But there was nothing save the gentle sighing of the wind in the tree tops. The returnee stifled a shiver, goose bumps rising along his bare arms.

How long was five minutes? Three hundred seconds. They'd be fine for three hundred seconds.X

Tom Baldwin spared a cursory glance in his nephew's direction. Good. The kid was calm, scanning the forest. Even though they'd taken shelter in a moonless patch of ground, the agent's experienced eye could piece out Shawn's expression.

It was a good thing the returnee was wearing a navy blue tee. Holding his weapon ready, the agent held his breath in concentration. Car approaching.

The vehicle rounded a curve, headlights bouncing off the trees. Baldwin hissed "Down," slinking against the trunk. But the vehicle never slowed, creeping into the night with winking red tail lights.

"Was it one of them?" Shawn's voice was barely audible. He hadn't turned to direct his question, but stared into the encasing blackness.

"I don't think so. Somebody heading home." He wished it were that simple. Tom hefted his weapon, hoping that's all the compact car portended. The most important thing was to keep Shawn calm. Panicky people made mistakes, and mistakes could get you killed.

"I should have trusted you."

"No regrets." Baldwin nudged his nephew with a knee. "Time for that later." Something vibrated against his skin.X

Uncle Tommy was speaking, clipped phrases that didn't make much sense. The older man scanned the road, cell held tight against his face.

The damp ground was starting to penetrate Shawn's jeans, but he didn't dare shift position. Ignoring the tickle of spiders on his neck and dirt grimed clothing. It had to be Carter. This was almost over.

"How long?" Baldwin's voice rose slightly. "I need-"

Shawn blinked to clear his vision. Adrenaline was starting to recede, leaving him tired and shaky.X

"We need to get out of here." Uncle Tommy was touching Shawn's shoulder, urging him up.

"Isn't-"

"No questions. We have to strike through those trees, find someplace to lie low. This is much worse than I thought."

"Maia-"

"Diana hasn't made it in yet." The older man caught the look of hopelessness that crossed the returnee's face. "She's good. Diana can take care of herself."

"What is this?"

"All out purge. Been building for a while-someone's stirring things up."

"Just the 4400's? No one else is being targeted-"

"Your mom will be okay."

"Can't NTAC-"

"We're doing what we can." Not allowing Shawn to voice his fears. "But things are out of control."

They'd barely crossed through the patchy forest when Baldwin grabbed his nephew's arm. "Stay close to me. If something breaks, do whatever I tell you. Exactly. You hear me?"

Shawn nodded, wordless.

"All right. Stick close to the trees."X

The field spread like an imaginary world before them. Silver clover and flowering weeds, the bare outlines of windswept grasses in the moon light. Walking close together, struggling to hasten through the knee deep plants and tripping occasionally.

"It's going to rain."

Prompted by his uncle's statement, the returnee glanced toward the sky. It was still twinkling with crystal stars, pale yellow orb and vast blackness.

"We've got maybe an hour. By that time, we'll be gone." Tom searched the space behind them.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from this road. Carter said it's crawling with people. He's going to try and pick us up the next one over."

"So we're heading for another road?"

Baldwin nodded, pointing.

Now all they had to do was wait. Again.X

"Hold on. We're going to be just fine."

Diana peered down the street, making out the too busy figures crossing in front of their hiding place. Instead of settling down, it was as if the city had come alive. There were people everywhere.

Maia scrunched in the seat next to her, looking small and scared in the enveloping jacket. Diana hoped she wasn't going to regret taking the returnee into her home. As much as Maia hated it, she would have been saferwith NTAC.

"We're going to wait here for a little while longer. Just until my back up arrives." Hoping no one would notice them. The roads were scattered with countless vehicles and piled debris, an attempt to keep anyone from escaping. The localized 4400 murders had turned into a full blown riot.

"What about your partner? Is he coming?"

"No, I think he's going to see that Shawn makes it in okay."

"They're waiting, just like us."

Diana studied the delicate face. "Do you know something about Tom?"

"Just that Shawn's waiting for someone."

"Join the list." Diana stifled a sigh. "I think we could be a little more organized."

"Why do people want to hurt us?"

Assuming the little girl meant the returnees, Skouris shook her head. "Maia, there are a lot of bad people in the world. They're scared, angry, upset and they do horrible things. But I'm not going to let them hurt you. Understand?"

"All right." The blond wriggled closer. Her reply was faint. "I wish I was never on TV."X

The shape of a barn loomed before them, clefting the night sky. Shawn stared at the building, not quite believing his eyes.

"What's going on?" Strains of a rock band accosted the agent's ears, a dozen, two dozen people moving about in the deserted yard.

"That's Gade's Barn."

"Meaning?"

"I guess it's still popular." Shawn's mouth curved into a subconscious smile. "This is where we liked to hang out and listen to loud music."

Baldwin frowned. "Make out."

Shawn shrugged. "I was more interested in the beer."

"You bring Kyle here?"

"He brought himself." The returnee shrugged away, resenting the fingers around his elbow. "He wasn't an innocent, Uncle Tommy."

"Corrupter of the innocent-" the phrase jumped into Shawn's mind with enough intensity to hurt. "Oh."

Baldwin was starting down the field slope, ignoring his nephew's quiet exclamation. The returnee hurried to catch up, feet responding automatically. He remembered something. Kyle and Shawn, beside the lake. Drinking alcohol, emptying the bottles and swapping jokes. They were-were-

Trying to remember cut through Shawn's head like a knife. The returnee grasped at the fleeting memory, straining to recall the rest of that evening. Night. It had been night-the water was cold, lapping against their fingers. Shawn was wearing his jacket, the denim one he had left behind today. Kyle-his red vest-

Pressing his fingers into his eyes did no good, but it helped ease the ache. White, something bright had blinded them. Kyle was calling for help-

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Baldwin's rough shove drove the last remnant of the scene into blackness. Shawn tugged away from that touch, the low, angry voice. He had almost remembered. Almost.

"Uncle Tommy, I-"

"We have to get to the road. I can't be tied up trying to get you to safety, I have a job to do."

"I-I think I remembered-"

"Later."

Shawn shook his head, seeing the blankets and flashlights, the roaring bonfire. He wondered if any of his friends were down there, singing along.

"It was the summer of '69-"

They skirted the circle of light, making for a copse of trees beside the asphalt. Shawn felt himself drawn toward the voices, the laughter. Normality.

"We'll wait here." Baldwin's voice came as if from a great distance. Shawn realized his uncle thought he was losing control. He nodded, just to keep the agent happy.

"How's your ankle?"

Funny. The returnee hadn't even noticed it, until now. "Okay."

"Stay here. I'm going to check things out." Baldwin slid into the shadows, almost invisible. Not giving his nephew a chance to protest.

Crouched against the thin branches, hearing the leaves rustling. Now that he was upwind, Shawn couldn't catch more than a brief snatch of music. Sweat from the fast paced trek dried on his skin. The returnee ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to relax.

"Be careful!" A voice broke the late night silence. It couldn't be-

Shawn drew himself against the cloaking trees. There was no sign of Uncle Tommy, and the fire was still burning in the distance. Weeds clung to his shirt,scratchy and uncomfortable. He was aware of this, and of the dull ache in his side from running. The strains of another song...and hurried footsteps coming steadily nearer.

The approaching person was loud, not cautious. It sounded as if someone was tearing recklessly through the field, maybe two or three of them.

"Don't go so fast!" The second voice was softer, feminine. It was oddly familiar.

Shawn struggled forward, moonlight splashing on the two figures with clasped hands. "Danny!"

The girl back stepped, uttering a scream at the returnee's low exclamation.

"Who's there?" The shorter Farrell pushed his companion behind him. "Get out here where I can see you!"

"Danny, it's me." Dumbly. He didn't know what to say, standing in the midst of purple clover heads.

"Shawn?"

"It's Shawn?" Nicki stole the moment, peeking from behind her protector's back.

"What are you doing here?" Danny was eyeing his brother's disheveled appearance.

"I-I was-" the returnee shook his head. "You've grown up."

"You have, too." Danny pulled the blond into the open. "Behold Nicki."

"Nicki?" Unable to keep the admiration from his tone. "You're just a kid."

"Was." Her manner altered subtly, becoming coy. "Do I look all grown up?"

"You look amazing."

"Excuse the interruption, but what are you doing here?" Danny tapped the returnee's shoulder. "It's not safe tonight."

"Tell me about it." Shawn spared a long glance behind him. "I'm waiting for someone."

"Uncle Tommy?"

"Ya. We're heading into town, I've got to get to NTAC before someone finds me."

"I just heard." Nicki touched the returnee's arm. " About the 4400's. Your mom called."

"We have to get back." Danny motioned toward the barn. "Mom said things were getting nasty, someone threw a rock into the front window."

"Because of-" Shawn let the question die. Because of me. "Do you have a car," instead.

"We came with friends." Danny started away. "Come on!"

"I can't-" Shawn hesitated. "Did she call the police?"

"The place is a full blown riot. They don't have time for every call. I heard they're mostly protecting 4400's." There was no disguising the bitterness in that answer.

"You can't take Nicki back there."

"We don't have much of a choice."

"She's safer out here."

Danny sighed. "Look, we were hanging out, and things started going down. Some of us figured it'd be better to wait till things calmed. Then mom called. She's scared."

"What about-" Shawn couldn't help asking questions-" Gifford?"

"Dad?" Ignoring the returnee's wince. "He's out of town for the week."

"I promised Uncle Tommy-" Shawn was torn, hoping to catch a glimpse of the agent, but all was still. Flowers sighing in the wind, Green Day fading in the background.

"Mom needs you."

When had little brother become so scornful? Shawn nodded. "Okay. Okay."

The trio broke onto the party scene amidst equal murmurs of shock and disbelief.

"It's Shawn!"

"No way!"

"What's he doing here?"

Trying to shut out the voices, friendly and antagonistic alike. The returnee followed his brother through flickering fire light, air laced with the scent of hot dogs and wood smoke. Shawn avoided empty beer bottles, catching hold of Nicki when she stumbled.

"Right here." Danny hurried them inside the car, glancing about the sea of scattered faces. "Here he comes."

Shawn sat beside Nicki, heart hammering erratically against his chest. Maybe things would be so crazy no one would recognize him. No. The best thing to do was fetch Uncle Tommy, he would know how to protect Susan. They had to use their heads.

"Danny, wait a minute-" Shawn's exit was interrupted by a tall form.

"Who's this?" The newcomer's smile was vaguely familiar, darkness casting most of the face in shadows.

"Let me out-"

"Shawn, don't worry." Nicki's eyes conveyed her puzzlement. "It's just Colin. He's your-"

"I know who he is." The returnee wrested himself past the mocking stranger.

"Why the hurry?"

Shawn ignored Colin, pinning his brother with his eyes. "Danny, I'm going to get Uncle Tommy. He'll know how to handle this."

"We don't have time to wait around."

"He's better at this than we are. We're just going to get somebody killed if we go barging in. And I think you should let Nicki stay here. For now."

"What? I can take care of her!"

"Danny, calm down. Uncle Tommy will know what to do. He can even send help-"

"It won't get there in time. We have to get mom out now."

Shawn stood his ground. Curious bystanders had formed misshapen groups, listening to the confrontation. Their pale faces ringed the returnee in. "Danny, we have to wait for Uncle Tommy."

"Shut up." Colin butted in with the diplomacy of a goat. "Shut up and get in the car."

"No." Shawn back stepped, clearing the group. "I'm sorry, Danny, but this is stupid. I just got out of there, you don't realize how hard it's going to be without some help."

"For you, maybe." Gifford let his glance trail over the returnee. Insolently. "After all, you're the whole reason this started."

"I don't have time for this." Shawn's mouth firmed. "Danny, come on."

"You're not my boss." The younger Farrell looked toward Colin for support.

"Danny. I can't believe this." Shawn's frown turned regretful.

"Get in the car, freak." Colin. Holding the door with one hand, motioning toward the spectators with another.

Shawn was torn, casting Danny a sad smile. When he moved, it was completely unexpected. Barreling through the gawking bystanders, the returnee was half way past the fire before any of them even realized what had happened.

"Get him!" Colin's cry drove some of the fatigue from Shawn's brain. He crossed the grass trampled party zone, heading for the small cluster of trees. Hoping Uncle Tommy hadn't returned to find him gone.

It was hard going. Shawn's ankle kept giving out, but he kept on his feet. Wasting only one glance behind him. It was what he had feared- Gifford, tall and thin, leading the pack in hot pursuit.

He was stupid. Stupid, stupid. Evading out and out murderers only to fall in with prejudiced, intoxicated kids. Uncle Tommy was going to-

"Ugh!" The thought was driven out of his mind with the force of the blow. The returnee had run right into the arms of a dark coated figure. "Uncle Tommy-" he had barely the breath to gasp.

"Get him in the car! Go, go!"

Another shadow clad form emerged from the trees, evading Shawn's flailing fists.

"Hurry it up! That agent's around here some where."

He should never have left. Shawn wondered if Uncle Tommy would even know what happened to him. With his arms twisted behind his back, a second man on his arm-there wasn't a hope of breaking free. But if they planned to kill him, well then, he wasn't going without a fight.

"Hey!" Danny's yell pierced the pulse pounding in Shawn's ears. "Hey!"

"Get out of here," the returnee managed to shout, before the choke hold on his neck tightened.

They threw him into a car he couldn't even see. The clouds had blotted the moonlight, true to Baldwin's prediction. It was going to storm.

Shawn wondered, insanely, when they were going to kill him. It was hard to breathe with a heavy body half atop him.

"Shawn!" Nicki's scream penetrated the muffled interior.

Tires spun on loose gravel, the sharp reversal throwing the returnee onto the floor. His legs were pinched in the close confines, and he tried to straighten them. There was no time to think about Nicki. Danny. His mom.

"Hold still." Unmistakable coolness of a gun barrel against his temple. Shawn struggled to stay calm. If they were planning on shooting him, wouldn't they have just left him dead in the field? No, they had taken pains to bring him along.

"Quit-moving. I can't breathe."

Danny's faint voice chilled Shawn. Unbelieving, the returnee lie still, trying to pin point the sound. "Danny?"

"You're on top of me, you idiot."

"Oh, God. Did they take Nicki?"

"Colin had her. I was-" grunt-"trying to get to you. If you weren't so touchy-"

"Danny." Shawn paused, thinking how ridiculous this was to be having a conversation, sandwiched in a strange vehicle.

"This is all your fault." Groan. "Get off me!"

"I can't-" Shawn tried shaking the captor off his back. His struggle only served to hasten the efforts of the man who was trying to tie the returnee's wrists together.

"You two, shut up!"

"Shut up yourself!"

"Danny, please be quiet." Shawn gasped as the pressure on his temple increased. "What-what do you want?"

"Not another word. Either of you. One less 4400 won't shake the earth off it's axis."

Shawn hesitated. The speaker sounded young, perhaps a few years older than Danny. "Where are you taking us? NTAC is going to be all over you. I hope you're-"

A knee drove into the small of the returnee's back. The thrust in the kidney's had it's desired effect.

"You're going to be useful." Small chuckle.

Shawn hoped his brother had the sense to be still. It was obvious Danny didn't appreciate the seriousness of their situation. The returnee had been the one to experience a darker side to life; there was no way his sheltered sibling could understand.

Maybe, if there were but two assailants, they could take them. Gun or no gun. Shawn tried to control his breathing. There was a way out. Once he could get the guy underneath him somewhat-

As if on cue, the mocking voice spoke up. "This is going to keep you nice and quiet."

A hot flash of pain exploded at the base of the returnee's neck. As consciousness faded, Shawn's brain wouldn't let something go. Nicki had called to him, not her boyfriend.X

Danny heard his brother's slight exclamation of surprise, then the body partially atop him went limp.

Closer to the floor, listening to the tires spinning off asphalt. There was no way to tell where they were going. It was obvious to the younger Farrell that these men wanted something with his brother. Danny's immediate guess was hostage. Their uncle being NTAC gave unscrupulous men a perfect bartering chip. Not to mention, Shawn's face had been plastered all over the evening news, more than once.

Shawn didn't look to be in that gooda shape. Danny sighed. Better to take the path of least resistance, keeping his eyes and ears open. Better than getting knocked in the head.He couldn't believe these men would actually harm him, but then again...Uncle Tommy would come through. Good old Uncle Tommy. Feeling the security the sheltered often experience, Danny stayed calm. He'd have to watch over his brother. For a change. Being abducted had left Shawn a stranger. And scared.


	13. Professional Help

A-N: To all my wonderful readers-thanks may be found in the foot notes. ( : 

THIRTEEN

Danny grimaced in appreciation when rough hands drug his brother's body outside. The pins and needles feeling made standing upright difficult, and he didn't want the same treatment. He'd exit on his own two legs.

"Out of the car!"

"All right." Cold air hit him in the face. It was windier here, and the dark shapes of trees were tossing in patches of moonlight. The younger Farrell turned around, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings.

"Move."

Something icy prodded him in the back. A tiny prickle ran up Danny's spine-it was all unreal. The gun jammed into his skin, Shawn's prone figure being half carried away.

"Where are you taking him?"

No one bothered to answer. Another two men slid soundlessly from the shadows, conversing in low tones. One of them knelt down, grabbing the returnee by the chin. He shone a flashlight into the still face, then grunted. Apparently satisfied.

"Be careful with him!" Danny had never practiced caution. What he felt, he felt. So he said it. Whether or not it ticked people off.

"Shut up, kid."

"What do you want with my brother?"

The man following Danny gave him a shove.

X

He hadn't remembered drinking last night. As far as he could recall.

Shawn tried to sit up, wondering why he couldn't get his arms to work. The pulse throbbing in his skull threatened to overtake any conscious thought.

Okay. It wasn't as if he'd never experienced the after effects of too many beers. True, the experiences had been limited. For one thing, Shawn had responsibilities. Looking out for his mother, and Danny. The way that kid looked up to him...

But this must have been one of those rare occasions. Funny, Shawn couldn't remember it.

"Oh." Moving only made it worse.

Grit scraped under his fingernails. Dirt? And no wonder he couldn't change position. Something was keeping his wrists together. It was tight, too constricting to be comfortable. The returnee flexed his fingers, trying to relieve the ache. Where was he?

It had to have been some kind of a shack. Or building. There were slats missing from the roof where colder air washed down and slivers of sky. The smell had brought him around. Shawn wrinkled his nose in distaste. The scent was reminiscent of mildew and mice.

"What-"

Pieces of the night began to take shape in his brain. Uncle Tommy. Danny. Colin.

But where was Danny?

Scrabbling furiously at the musty ground, Shawn realized he was lying on an old mattress. There was barely enough light to see, so he had to search by touch. The strangers had left his legs free. Big mistake. It was a matter of seconds, breathless and dizzy, before the returnee found his feet. There was a slight creaking as the rusty box spring protested his departure.

He had to find Danny.

"Why don't you be still!"

The harsh whisper brought Shawn up short. "What-where are you?"

"You're stepping on me."

"Oh. I-can't see- very well."

"That's for sure. Sit down and wait till it clears."

"Clears?" It was hard to think straight.

"Your eyes have to adjust. Sit down and don't move. You're going to bring somebody up here."

"Where's-" gingerly resettling himself on the bed-"here?"

"I'm working on it. I figure we can't be more than ten miles north of where they nabbed me."

"And-where was that?"

"I was just crossing the street. Went to visit my girl friend. Big mistake. She must have run her mouth."

Shawn's head ache didn't make much sense of the choppy explanation. "How do you know we're ten miles north? And north of what?"

"I paid attention. Didn't you?"

"Too many turns." Shawn wanted to massage his temple. "Not really."

"You aren't on the ball, are you?"

"Guess you could say that."

"There's about five of us. Not counting that kid they brought it."

"Danny?"

"He your brother or something?"

Shawn's response was barely audible. "I don't know how he got caught up in this."

"Probably couldn't keep quiet. They shut him up downstairs."

"Are you a returnee?"

"2001. But I know all about you."

"Really?" Shawn struggled to control his breathing. He had to stay calm, think past the nagging ache.

"Figure out why they brought you here?"

"Why don't you tell me." As much as he disliked touching the filthy mattress, it was strangely comfortable. Stretching out made Shawn feel a little better. He stared at the broken squares of starlight.

"Something's going down. I have a pretty good feeling we're the returnee's that are going to get them what they want."

Shawn half raised his head."They're killing us. I mean, the returnees. They've been beating people to death in the streets. What could they possibly want from us?"

"Figure that one out for yourself. And you don't need to tell me what's going on in the city- Iwas there. Trust me. We're better off in this dump."

"I have to get out of here."

"Relax. Don't go starting trouble."

"You don't understand. I have to take care of Danny. And my mom-my mom's waiting-"

"Sound pretty mixed up to me. Why don't you close your eyes and give it a minute. You'll feel better."

Shawn struggled to his feet. "Where are you?"

"One step and you're on top of me."

"Do you know which direction the stairs are in?"

"There's a trap door in the floor. Under that, they have a ladder that leads into the kitchen. There's men below standing guard."

"So what if we jump? I mean, out the window."

"Boarded up. That's why it's pitch black."

"This wood feels rotten." The younger man tapped the floor boards with a foot.

"Stomp on it and find out." Sarcastically." Listen, you're going to bring the whole house down. They haven't killed us yet, so if we play along, we'll stay alive. They didn't drag us all the way out here for nothing."

"Better than just sitting. Waiting for who knows what-"

"Kid. What's your name?"

"Shawn."

"Shawn Shawn?"

Ignoring the sarcasm. "Shawn Farrell."

"I seen you on TV. You-"

"I don't want to talk about it." The returnee avoided the direction of that voice. "Who are you?"

"Josh. Josh will do."

"Oh. Seeing as how you have a big mouth, you sure keep it closed when you want to."

"I'm not obligated to tell some high schooler anything. Different circumstances, you'd think before you spoke."

Shawn dropped to his knees, crashing into a pile of shredded newspapers. It was enough to silence the fall, luckily enough. He began to feel for the cracks which would indicate a door. It was difficult, bending backward and twisting to the side so that he could search with his fingertips.

"What are you doing?"

Shawn pretended to miss the query, biting his lip in concentration. Covering the floor with painstaking precision, touching who knows what. There was nothing else to do."If I find the door, maybe you could untie my hands."

"Forget it."

"I-"

"No, thank you. I'd rather stay alive."

"I don't think they're keeping us as pets."

"Why don't you shut up? I'm not going to get beaten on because you want to play hero."

"Fine." Shawn's jaw tightened.

X

Danny clenched his fists, standing just below the second story ladder. It was punky and rotted, some rungs missing completely. "I'm not climbing that thing."

He was using anything he had. Every excuse. Danny 'd tried threats, insults, and an ill fated escape attempt. He wondered why one of the men just didn't knock him on the back of the head. Underneath his own fear was the nagging concern for Shawn. Was his brother all right? Danny hadn't been able to see where the idiots had taken him.

Wrinkles spoke. "If you're so concerned about that friend of yours, get up the ladder. Quietly."

If the men had names, they were careful to avoid using them. Wrinkles was sun scoured and rough, the creases on his leathery face making it hard to guess his age. The man seemed to be in charge. Snake was backing him up, one hand resting lightly on Danny's shoulder. The second man had said barely a word since the abduction, but his dark eyes darted constantly from side to side.

"You know, I'm afraid of heights." Danny folded his arms across his chest. ' Wrinkles.' Tempted to use the nick name, but thinking better of it.

Snake grabbed a handful of pullover, his shove far from gentle.

"Fine." Danny scrambled up, inwardly shuddering. The ladder swayed from side to side, but surprisingly took his weight. It was harder to unlatch the trap door, pushing it open above his head.

Fine dirt sifted out, disturbed by the cold wind that seeped through the roof. Danny hesitated. This was more like a dungeon than he cared to admit.

Snake was urging him forward, so he swallowed twice and moved forward a tiny step. It was a welcome relief when the man's flashlight beam raked the gloom.

Danny glanced to his left, at a middle aged form hunched onto a raggedy blanket, his face turned from the light. The captive's hands were tightly bound, clothes draped in cobwebs.

"What are you doing?" Snake jerked the beam into a corner partially concealed by the trapdoor. Danny strained to see, relief making his knees weak.

"Shawn!"

"Pulling some of your 4400 crap?" Snake's tone was harsh.

"Danny? Are you all right?" Shawn tried to see past the body blocking his vision. "Danny?"

"I'm okay."

Snake held out a hand in warning, but Danny pushed past. He had barely a moment to take in Shawn's dust streaked face before the man swung the flashlight. It thudded against Danny's ribcage, sucking the air from his lungs. Effectively bringing him to the floor. He couldn't breathe.

"Danny!" Shawn drove his shoulder into the attacker's legs, kneeling forward in concern. "Danny! Are you okay?"

The younger Farrell struggled to get his breath.

"Danny-" wishing he could give his brother a hand. Reach out and touch him.

X

Shawn didn't see the blow coming. He was bending over his brother one moment, crashing on his face the next. It didn't even hurt at first. The impact did, however. Something wet moistened his cheek, and he sniffed, trying to control the blood.

"Get up. Come on."

The returnee was slightly dazed, fully expecting another blow. But none came. The narrow faced stranger grabbed Shawn by the shirt collar, jerking him onto his feet. "Over there."

The fading headache returned with a vengeance, and Shawn was only too grateful to sink into his mattress.

"Next time I won't go easy on you. Stay there. Don't try anything or I'll make sure you can't."

Shawn sniffed again, not responding.

"Do I need to illustrate?" The man started toward Danny.

"No! Leave him alone."

"That's better." Snake almost smiled. "I'd prefer not to hurt him. After all, he's just a kid."

"I don't know what you want, but this doesn't have anything to do with him. I'm the 4400." Shawn blinked in the flashlight's glare. Startled by the hatred roiling in his captor's eyes. Aversion.

Danny slowly sat up, rubbing his side and wincing. "What the crap-"

"I'll get you some food." This time, Snake's attention was directed toward the younger Farrell. "After I tie you up"  
At least Danny's wrists were fastened in front of him. When Snake returned with a cold sandwich and plastic water bottle, he tested the bonds. Watching Shawn with that same acute expression of dislike. "Hope you aren't hungry. There really isn't enough to go round."

Shawn favored his captor with a dark look. At least he could twist his head enough to blot the nose bleed on his tee.

Then the trapdoor closed, effectively shutting out any light.

"Hey." Danny's clothes rustled, and Shawn felt his mattress shift.

"Are you sure you're okay?" The returnee's voice was faint.

"What about you, Shawn?"

"I'm sorry I got you into this."

"You didn't. I got myself in." Danny hesitated. "Don't go taking all the credit."

"This has nothing to do with you." Shawn sniffed. "If I'd listened to Uncle Tommy, used my head, none of us would be here."

"I practically dove into that car. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"Why?" Shawn bit his lip. "Why?"

"You're my brother, stupid."

"It's been so long."

"Ya. Takes a couple of thugs to bring us together."

Shawn didn't respond.

"What happened to our family?"

"I don't know, Danny. I thought you had one."

"Hu. Colin likes to throw his weight around. Sort of like you. It just isn't the same."

"That's good to know."

Comfortable silence ensued, broken by an occasional sniff.

Shawn fell back, resting his head on the lumpy bed. The cold wind ruffled the damp hair on his forehead, stars glittering like broken glass. Danny sighed, relaxing beside him. They were just too tired to think right now. So unaccustomed to being together.

"Shawn, you ever see a sky that big before?"

"Sometimes."

"Where?"

Shawn's answer was soft."By the lake."

Danny cleared his throat. "That's where you returned, wasn't it?"

"You two ever going to shut up?" The forgotten returnee kicked the Farrell's mattress.

"Step off!"

"Whoah." Shawn tried to piece together his brother's face. "Danny, calm down."

"He's an annoying jerk."

"Keep your voice down."

"Why?"

"We have to figure a way out."

"I'm all for it. Sit up and I'll try untying your hands."

Shawn had to roll onto his side, getting an elbow underneath him. Danny helped push him up, testing the bonds around his brother's wrists. "Do you think Uncle Tommy's going to show up? I mean, you've been living with the guy. You've probably seen things-"

Shawn inwardly winced.

"I mean, he's working for NTAC. But what's the guy really like? He never actually told us anything about his work. You know, the stuff an agent does every day. I wish I could see him taking down-"

"Maybe you'll get your wish," Shawn interrupted, hurriedly.

"These are tight."

The returnee didn't bother to respond. Maybe it was the pounding he had taken over the last few days. Maybe not. But things seemed so cloudy. Everything was wrapped in a haze like a soft blanket. Why wasn't he upset? Maybe because he had expected something like this. Uncle Tommy couldn't protect him forever. And sooner or later, people would learn to accept the returnees or kill them off.

Danny sighed, abandoning his efforts. "Just give me a minute."

"Are you okay?"

"It's just that stupid flashlight." The younger Farrell shifted his shoulders, trying to ease the ache in his chest.

"Maybe you cracked a rib." Shawn took a deep breath. Clearing the fog from his brain. "Take it easy."

"Oh, now you're a doctor?"

"I lived in quarantine long enough to earn a degree." The returnee frowned in concentration. "Where does it hurt?"

"Shawn, no offense, but I'll wait for professional help."

"Hey." The returnee twisted his arms, working at the bonds. "You've loosened this. I think-if I-" The nylon rope dug into Shawn's wrists, but he wrenched his left hand free. "Got it."

"Try untying me," Danny protested, feeling his brother's gentle touch probing the fresh bruise.

"I don't know, maybe you cracked something-"

"Uh-"

"What?" Shawn pulled back. "I hardly touched you." The attractive face darkened. "Danny?"

"I feel-really weird." Danny squeezed his eyes shut. "It's gone."

"What-"

"The pain. Doesn't hurt anymore."

"Stop fooling around."

"I'm serious, magic hands. Whatever you did, it feels great."

"I don't know. You'd better be careful. Something might be messed up." Shawn swiped at his nose.

"You going to untie me?"

"I don't know." Sniff. "You going to share your breakfast?"

"No way."

Shawn sobered. "Let me get this thing undone, then we're out of here."

"Got a plan? Or should we just walk downstairs."

"Well, this place is falling apart. I mean, obviously. We could find a spot to break through."

"Punch a hole in the wall and jump a couple of stories."

"There might be trees. Old houses are usually over run with them."

"Old trees with old branches."

"You got a better idea?"

"No. Not yet."

"Well, I don't think if we should count on Uncle Tommy. I know he's going to try real hard, but he may not get here in time. And NTAC could have pulled him off my case, sent him back into town. I mean, there's a lot of people that need help."

"He wouldn't do that."

"One thing Uncle Tommy does do-his job." Shawn pulled the rope free. "He could save one returnee, or twenty. Whatever looks good on paper."

"Shawn." Danny's tone was accusing. "What's wrong with you? Talk about-"

"He's making sense." Josh startled both brothers. The third member of the attic had all but immersed himself in shadows.

"I thought you weren't interested." Danny half rose from the mattress.

"Hey." Shawn's words were soft. "Cool it, Danny."

"This guy. Your uncle. He's NTAC?"

Danny nodded tightly, an unseen gesture. "So?"

"Well, kid, agents don't become agents because they put family first. A good agent does his job."

"Uncle Tommy's the best. He was specially assigned to the 4400's."

"Because he know's his stuff. Look, if this Tommy started running off after his returnee nephew every time trouble struck, they'd probably reassign him. Fast."

Shawn listened to the conversation, a reluctant observer. He wanted to shut out the sentences flowing around him. Danny's hot voice and the stranger's mocking one. Everything was so messed up. He'd caused even more trouble for Uncle Tommy. The man was seriously going to hate him. Shawn secretly hoped his uncle was already en route to the old farmhouse, but another part of him knew it was selfish. Selfish to always expect the man to balance his loyalties. Work or Shawn. What an agent was supposed to do and what an uncle felt obligated to do.

"Are you listening?" Danny's hand came down on the returnee's shoulder.  
"Uh-yes. Just thinking." Shawn's fingers rubbed at an ache in his temple.

"Why don't you have a bite?"

Shawn felt a bit of sandwich press into his palm. "Thanks, Danny. I'm really not very hungry-"

"Eat it. It's not bad." Sounds of chewing. "I mean, it's made the way you like it. Lots of sloppy sauce and mushy tomatoes."

The returnee reluctantly took a taste. There was no way food could appeal to him, not with his stomach all twisted up in knots...

The fast food was incredible, a chicken sandwich. "What about Josh," he whispered, around a mouthful.

"We'll all starve." Danny sighed. "Here. Three ways. I hope he chokes on it."

X

There are thanks in order! To Klnolan- Colin is basically a jerk, and Danny's stepbrother. He has a problem with the 4400, inherited it from dear old dad. As far as Shawn, you'll find out soon what's going on. I promise. Thank you so much for reading my story, Klnolan! Here is a virtual pinecone for you. O It was all Shawn could find, in the woods. ( :

Rockstarhobbit-thanks for your review. I loved it. Screwed up? You were hilarious. Thanks so much for letting me know what you think. And for reading! Shawn sends you a pinecone in appreciation. I was tempted to keep it for myself. O

Sarah-you have the funniest questions. For one thing, Shawn may end up looking like something the cat dragged in, but he'll be very much alive. I just feel like beating him up a little. I don't know, make Uncle Tommy guilty if he ever catches up. LOL Tee and jeans, pick a style of hair. Whatever you choose!( : If that makes any sense. As far as the moose, it's sooo cute. I think Shawn decided on Milo. It reminds him of his favorite childhood film, Milo and Otis. ( : I think that a moose collection would be very cool. Espeacially now that Shawn's starting one. And Shawn sends you a baby pinecone. O It's the best he can do-for now. So everyone gets pinecones! ( :

Sheba-Hello! Of course I remember you. I'm glad that your PC is feeling better. Thank you for reading my story and for leaving your kind review! ( : Oh, and a virtual pinecone from Shawn for you. O


	14. Little Brother Taking Charge

FOURTEEN 

There was no telling what time it was. Moonlight pieced through the cracks, splintering inky darkness. It was cooler, Shawn sitting still with his brother's warm back against his own.

"What are you thinking about? Figure a way out?"

"No. Not really." The returnee wrapped cold arms about his chest.

"I still think we should hold off for a few more minutes. Give Uncle Tommy-"

"Uncle Tommy won't be coming." Shawn's voice held a finality that wasn't reassuring.

"Is there something going on between you two? Something you haven't told me?" Danny's clothes rustled in the stillness.

"Just leave it."

"What was it? The 4400's-or Kyle-it had something to do with Kyle, didn't it?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Crap! I'm stuck here because of you. The least you could do is tell me why Uncle Tommy isn't going to save our butt's."

Shawn sighed, a soft breath in the darkness. Danny's ears strained to catch the barely audible reply that followed.

"We didn't get along."

"That's drastic. Real drastic, Shawn."

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

Danny sat motionless, feeling the cold, hard floorboards underfoot. The lumpy mattress creaking as Shawn withdrew into the corner. "Don't do that."

The returnee didn't bother to respond.

"Shawn, you keep losing me. Like there's a part of you that holes up inside, and I can't seem to get through. Stop it."

"Everything's different, Danny. Nothing's the same." Shawn's eyes widened, staring at something in the distance.

Danny rubbed his forearms, warding off the chill. It did nothing to warm the coldness creeping along his spine. Shawn was starting to scare him. "Hey, let's check for that loose board."

The taller brother watched Danny's stockier frame slip from shadow into pale moonlight. There probably wouldn't be a way out. Shawn had been running for a long time. And now all he really wanted was to lie down. Lie down and give up. His eyes were so heavy, they just wanted to close.

X

"He doesn't look so good."

"Thanks for the observation." Danny paused, running his fingers along the wall.

"Sick or something?"

"I know what I'm sick of."

"You two aren't going to make it. Even if you do manage to get outside, you'll never find your way through those trees."

"Thank you again, Josh." Pressing into the pulpy wood. "Next time I need some advice, I'll ask for it."

"You don't even begin to see the whole picture." Derisive snort. "Couple of kids."

"Leave it. Just leave it." Shawn cut into the argument, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Shawn, you're right. These boards are rotten." Danny's relief was so great, he had to sit down. "Want to check them out?"

Shawn moved stiffly, but his dark eyes had lost some of the far away quality. They seemed to focus, a bit of a smile curving his sensitive lips upward. "What? Do I look that bad?"

"No." Danny had to blink, repressing tears.

"We'll make it out okay." Shawn touched the younger Farrell's shoulder with a look of concern.

"I know that." Shrugging aside. "Let's get moving."

X

"You probably don't have more than five minutes before some one comes to check on us." Josh glanced from one brother to the other, disappointed at their lack of response. A piece of debris flew by his ear, too close for comfort.

"Sorry." Danny didn't even bother to mask the amusement in his voice.

"Just wait. They're going to make you pay for trying to escape." Josh settled back against his mound of blankets.

His fellow returnee's ominous prediction seemed to jolt Shawn into a higher state of awareness. Scrabbling, fingers slipping along the scratching wood. He discovered a board with three nails already rusted out. Someone must have tried patching, and their handiwork was far from professional.

"Danny. We've got it."

Together they pried the heavy sheet of wood away from the wall. It revealed a small hole about the size of a watermelon.

"Shawn?"

"We have to work at it with something."

"What about the mattress? One of the slats, or a spring-"

"Got it." The returnee was already flipping the dusty bed over.

"Slow down." Danny shoved his brother, not ungently. "We have to save something for outside."

Two spots of color, high on Shawn's cheeks, attested to that. Danny wished they'd never shared the messy sandwich with Josh.

"I think this will work." In the light of victory, Shawn's whole face seemed to change, shedding the gray pallor that had haunted it. He started for the hole, but a hand closed around his arm.

"I'll take first turn.You listen for the goon squad."

Danny's suggestion didn't sit well with Shawn-after all, he was used to taking charge. But little brother had changed somehow. There was a steadier look about him, determination underlining every movement.

The returnee took a deep breath. "Okay."

X

The darkness seemed to swirl about, golden speckled clouds of nothingness. Danny's muffled grunts, the steady scrape scrape of crumbling wood. Shawn lie with his ear pressed to the trapdoor, shivering with cold and adrenaline. Blood throbbed against his temple, echoed by the quick beating of his heart.

Playing cowboys and indians in the dimly lit attic. Shapes of trunks and the dressmaker's dummy, foreign shadows that lent an intangible air of mystery. Danny would be the one to rush screaming from any number of horrific creatures. Strangely enough, Shawn was never privy to the countless apparitions. He used to wander the dusty corners, strands of cobwebs caressing his face like fingers. All he met were overstuffed chairs and boxes spilling out tarnished keepsakes. He'd always wanted to see a monster. Not touch it, or get eaten up or anything. Because Shawn was the only kid on the block that hadn't at least glimpsed a monster.

"Hey!"

The urgent whisper made Shawn sit up so fast, splotches of red stained his vision.

"Why aren't you paying attention?"

"I am."

X

Thanks to all my reviewers-I have quite a few. Pleasantly surprised! My apologies to everyone, but I haven't been able to use a computer lately. I have had time to type this up because it's so small. But it should look good next week, because some of my family have to attend some kind of military drill. I will write a real chapter then. And thank every one of you individually!


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